Guardian Wand
by sigiltristan
Summary: After the Potter will finally breaks from a breach of contract, a man is hired to protect Harry. What will happen when a trouble seeker finds a trouble magnet? The magical world might not be ready...but neither is the Dark. (I suck at descriptions.) AU/no slash/M for a reason. Pre-Hogwarts, might go to post-Hogwarts.
1. The Contract

**Guardian Wand**

Legal note: I do not, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter and/or any materials attached/related to it. Please don't sue me.

A/N: Hello. I've been reading fanfics for almost 9 years and I recently got this idea bubbling and not leaving, so I thought I might take a shot at writing it out. Please note, not everybody is gonna like my writing style, nor do you have to. Nonconstructive criticism will be laughed at. Got an idea, compliment, critique, or just wanna talk ? Review or PM me dog! Lastly, I am an adult and enjoy writing like one, there will be swearing, descriptive violence, abuse (Only in this chapter so far), and possible sexual content (No kids and no lemon, only insinuated)

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

Glancing at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, a young man looks down a hallway at an office, specifically its door. Dark brown eyes taking in the details, obstacles, possible cover from enemies on either end of the hall.

Sighing before dragging his fingers through his raven hair, barely touching his shoulders, he straightens himself out. He was supposed to be in there already. Waiting still wasn't one of his strong points, even after...5 years of training?

Taking a deep breath intent on sighing again, louder so as to coerce a response from somebody, he was interrupted by a voice slightly muffled by the door. "Magnus, come in."

Standing and stretching slightly, a brisk walk saw him in the office, across from his "handler", one Gregory M. Rawlings. A small motion informing him to sit, followed by silence, interrupted only by the flipping of pages in the file Greg was holding.

His sandy brown hair greying from the temples and hairline, deep bags under his worn cold blue eyes. Eyes raking the page, he was entirely absorbed. Coughing slightly to draw his attention, cold blue met deep brown, before Gregory smirked.

"Thought you would have learned some patience by now...or hoped in any case. Drink?"

"You wanted to see me, sir ?". A weight settling in Magnus' stomach, drinks with Handler Gregory were rare...only used to soften the blow of a discharge or terrible news. "I-I'll have what you're having, sir."

"Ogden's it is." The sound of pouring followed by a tumbler being set down in front of him. Glancing up he caught Gregory's eyes. "Sir...?" The question being an obvious sign of wanting to get whatever ordeal this was supposed to be, over.

"Well Magnus, your scores are great, excellent dueller, a rather impressive repertoire of skills...firearms, CQC, stealth. You truly did live up to your promises, it would seem. Very good...very good indeed..."

"Sir? If I may...why was I called in? I thought I was being discharged or reprimanded."

Giving an unexpected hearty laugh, Gregory stood up. "Oh, oh no, son. Somebody as skilled as you? We woulda transferred you to the Yanks. Do some serious damage among them...No, No I called you in because I have a job for you...a terrible job." Taking a deep breath before swigging half of his drink, he sat down and pushed the file towards Magnus.

"Before opening that file and even reading the name of your charge-"

"Charge, sir? I was trained for assassination...murder. This is literally the opposite of what I trai-" Cutting off his meanderings at the behest of his handler's glare, he apologised and sat back.

"Now, as I was saying. This is a once-in-a-lifetime job. I went through everything...all of our available agents and officers...none of them made me think this was their job. You, however, you are perfect. Now, where the problem comes in, is that this is maybe one of the highest valued jobs ever. If not for the charge themselves, then for the publicity."

Looking at the file, Magnus started reaching for the edge to open it, a hand slammed down on the file. Glancing up he again met Gregory's eyes. "Listen, son...this one's above most of our agents' skill level...and their pay-grade. This can very likely lead to a painful death. And the charge cannot be lost at all. He is of immense importance I'm told. This means your life is in even more danger, as you're likely to take shots for both of you if it comes to that."

"Danger ? I'm in." A smirk following his statement before flipping through the pages. "Oh...oh shit."

Laughing once more at his rapidly paling, frowning face, Greg barely saying "Told ya!" before dissolving back into laughter.

Barely able to comprehend the words in front of him, Magnus asks, "The Boy-Who-Lived sir? Are you really sure I'm the right guy for this one? This...this is massive."

"Positive, boy! Your empathy scores indicate good human interaction, and him being a young child, and you still being rather youthful, you could treat him properly. I couldn't think of a single candidate for that reason alone." Standing up and walking around his desk, Greg put a hand on Magnus' shoulder, "You can do this Magnus. You've been trained by some of the best there are for 5 years. The company will give you as much support as they can."

"The dickheads upstairs probably don't like this, do they?"

"You can bet Merlin's sweet ass they don't, but we're pushing the plan anyways. We have no time nor chances to make second guesses. If you accept this, you become one of the highest ranked agents we have, not including very rich." Walking back to his chair and sitting down, Greg looked pointedly at Magnus. "Your choice? As I said, we don't have time Magnus. You can roll out after we set you up."

"I accept it, sir."

Letting out an obvious sigh of relief, Greg reached into his desk drawers. Handing him another file, and a small wallet, he said, "Alright, here's your inventory, safe-house, and transportation details. This," indicating the wallet, "is your ID badge. It is official, just in case you run into trouble with either muggle or ministry law-enforcement. Head down to the armoury after this, they'll give you everything you need."

Nodding once more, Magnus stood up and stretched out his hand, Greg accepting it. "Thank you for this opportunity sir...Greg. If I may ask, how'd we get this contract? Harry Potter's been missing for around 8 years now, and I'm sure none of his family are alive to put out a contract like this."

"Got it from the goblins at Gringotts. Something about a will being broken, and this being the best option as of right now. Good luck kid, you might just need it."

Giving him a sincere smile, Magnus turned on his heel, files underarm, and had a brisk walk to the elevator. "This is gonna be interesting." he muttered to himself, looking through the file on the trip down.

* * *

Second chapter should be up shortly. Enjoy your day ya beautiful bastards. 3


	2. The Contact

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

 **[Approx. 26 hours after briefing]**

"Boy! Get out of your _room_.", The word said with obvious joyful disdain, sighing, one 9-year-old Harry Potter climbed out from his abode beneath the stairs. Walking into the living room of his relative's home, the Dursley's were young Harry's bane. A quick "Yes, uncle Vernon?", followed by the walrus' beady eyes staring at Harry, barely focusing.

Harry realised in that second that something was not right. His eyes were more unfocused than normal, and then the smell of brandy burned at his nostrils, before his eyes slightly enlarged. 'Not good, not good' repeating in his mind.

"Boy...did I ever...t-tell you how you're g-good...for n-nothing parents died? You see..." Standing up Vernon neared Harry and grabbed his collar roughly, making Harry let out a yelp of pain as he felt his oversized shirt almost cut into his neck. "Y-Your mother, a real whore, and your f-father, a junkie and...alcholic, were out on a drive...". His brandy-soaked breath nearly suffocating Harry, mere inches from his face. "And as they were sh-shooting up some...heron? Heroin? They got in a crash!"

The statement bringing almost pure joy to Vernon Dursley's eyes, Harry started bawling his eyes out. "Now I won't have none of that freak!" Shaking Harry to emphasise his point. "If you don't shut your mouth I'll shut it for you!" Lifting his other hand to smack him, Harry stopped crying and looked on in fear as the hand lifted up slowly, as if it was moving through water.

A cry of "Freak!" followed the hand starting its first, brutal descent, stopping halfway at the ring of their doorbell. A grunt of disappointment escaping the walrus' lips, before dropping Harry. "Shnookums", glancing at Petunia, "expecting any guests?" At the shake of her head, a scared expression written on it, Vernon grabbed Harry still lying on the floor, shaking from his crying and fear at being beaten again.

Another ring of the bell put an extra step to Vernon's speed, practically tossing Harry into his...room, before shutting and locking the door. Getting to the front door, Vernon opened it to see a tall, intimidating man. His thigh length jacket concealing a black dress shirt, with black pants and boots complimenting the look. "What do you want?" At the sight of the man's shoulder length hair, he snorted before asking, "What are you? Some kind of puffter?" A slight frown met that remark.

Internally steeling himself so as to not mutilate this...walrus of a man, Magnus asked, "Evening. Is this per chance the Dursley residence?" The tub of lard glaring at him for a solid ten seconds, before gracefully answering, "Who are you?"

"My name is Magnus Burnholme, I am here to claim protective custody of my charge, one Harry J. Potter; son of James F. Potter, and Lily J. Potter, neé Evans. This is in accordance with Ministry, Goblin, and international laws. A Most Ancient and Noble family's will has been broken, on account of the will being ignored in the placement of aforementioned charge at a family stated as 'not allowed under any circumstances'. This is also in accordance of child abuse laws internationally, and the will stating that no abuse should come to the charge, lest the family forfeit their magic and possibly lives."

Looking back at the Walrus, Magnus realised that Vernon Dursley was, quite literally, dumber than the cement he was standing on. "Alright, I'll make this simple you oaf. Give me Harry, or I dismember you."

Vernon Dursley seemed to understand violence it seemed, for as soon as he had processed what Magnus had said, he attempted to lunge at him. Attempted being the key word in a situation like this. He'd just signed his rights away, much to Magnus' glee.

A combination Levicorpus, body bind, and banishing charms, had Vernon hogtied in the living room, having basically gone through the couch. Petunia Dursley's shriek of terror was quickly silenced with a stunner. Finally, Dudley Dursley, resembling the child of a troll and Vernon, was silenced with another stunner, only noticing that somebody else was in the house when his mother shrieked.

Sighing at their insistence to be loud and brashness, Magnus returned his wand to his sleeve, and called out to Harry. Not receiving an answer, he went to the stairs and loudly said to the top, "Harry Potter! I'm here to help you! I was sent by some friends of your parents! I'm not going to harm you Harry, I'm here to rescue you from this...place." Staying silent for a while, he was about to take out his wand to search for lifeforms, he heard the commotion approaching the door, and was hoping that Harry was fine, when he heard a small knock.

"Harry? Where are you?" Again, a small knock, he followed it this time. Barely two metres away was the door to the cupboard under the stairs. A weight set in his stomach...'Oh god no... it's worse than we thought.' Reaching the door, he quickly slid the lock open and wrenched the door open, accidentally breaking one hinge and ripping the other out of the wood.

Tossing the now loose door into the living room, hoping he hit Vernon, he looked inside, trying to put as much kindness on his face so as to coerce the poor kid to trust him. noticing him in the corner, he said "Harry? My name's Magnus, you can call me Mag if you want. Listen buddy, I'm here to break you out...get you away from these...freaks." Noticing Harry's wince at the word, he felt fire in his chest.

"Harry, I'd like to take you to a place you could maybe call home if you wanted to. I've got enough food and water to feed you forever, alright? No work, no chores, just you doing what you want to." Finally, Harry seemed to relent, crawling slowly closer. He noticed bruises on...well almost everywhere. He looked like an underfed 7-year-old, not a 9-year-old.

Stretching out his hands, Magnus motioned for Harry to come closer. "C'mon buddy, not gonna hurt you." Reaching Magnus, Harry was hoisted up and out of the cupboard. "Anything in... there you wanna take with buddy?" At the shake of his charge's head, he walked outside and towards his "undercover" car...shaking his head at his handler's choice in car, the dark grey 7.2 litre DB8 Vantage was fun to drive, if not so inconspicuous.

Placing Harry in the passenger seat, he told him to wait there and that he'd be right back. Handing him a chocolate bar from the glove compartment, he walked back inside.

Reaching Vernon's still breathing body, he levitated him into a chair. "You really are a god damned piece of work Dursley...beating up a boy who had no choice in receiving magic, nor losing both of his parents to a psychopathic bigot. I'm not one for mercy, nor am I for leaving vengeance be...so for Harry, and his parents, I'm gonna enjoy myself."

Walking out of the house, he got in and looked at Harry. His emerald green eyes filled with so much hope and want for love...he'd eviscerate anything trying to harm this kid. "Ready for your future, Harry?" Said child smiling up at him with some chocolate on his lips, "Yes sir!"

Smiling back, he started the car and started for central London, his safe-house's location.

* * *

 **[Approximately 15 min. after incident]**

Several pops could be heard as a couple of aurors, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, DMLE Head Amelia Bones, and Remus Lupin apparated in.

Amelia taking easy control, she started ordering the aurors to set up a small perimeter and to scan the nearby area for residual magic. Walking to the front door of 4 Privet Drive; Bones, Dumbledore, Lupin, auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, and ex-auror Alastor Moody stacked up, ready to breach. After Albus scanned for life signs inside, and only seeing three muggles, the calmly walked in.

The calm however was broken when Bones gasped and clutched a hand to her face. In the living room were three muggles yes, but in various stages of completion. Upon scanning them, Albus somberly informed them of the injuries, "Well...it would seem mister Vernon Dursley has suffered the loss of his extremities below the second joints...His legs were severed below the knees, arms severed below the elbows."

Amelia let out a shaky breath, "Are they alive, Albus?"

"Yes, my dear."

"Whoever did this, they were careful not to kill them. I can't make out a magical signal either. Somebody that knows advanced espionage was here." Moody remarked.

"What about the wife and child?" Kingsley asked.

"Wife's vocal chords were cut; the son has had most of his body transfigured into a troll it would seem...down to even the unnecessary anatomy." Bones shuddered, "Let's get to healing then."

Albus waved his wand...and frowned. Waving it again, his movements more forceful, he frowned again. Looking at his wand, then to the Dursleys, he waved his wand again, this time a slightly blue mist flowed out, enveloping the Dursleys. "It would seem that whoever did this knows a great deal of complex magic...they have intertwined the magic keeping them alive with...with runes carved into their bones. Runes that keep us from healing them. The runes would have to be deactivated to heal them, but with the states they are in, they would die." A morose feeling filled the room like ice water. Rune carving into the bones of living people is said to be exceptionally painful, not to mention really, really difficult.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Bones started relaying commands, getting the Dursley's to St. Mungo's. The most worrying part of all this? Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of the Magical World...was missing. Taken by somebody with an in depth understanding of torture, magic, and violence. They prayed to Merlin it wasn't Death Eaters.

Dumbledore approached Amelia as they were getting ready to apparate out. "Director Bones. I feel it might be prudent that you know a possibly crucial bit of information."

Rubbing her temples, 'This is a fucking nightmare...', "Yes, Chief Warlock?"

Smiling at her, he replied "I have told you numerous times Amelia, call me Albus, if nothing else. Now," offering her a lemon drop, which was promptly declined, he continued. "After entering their minds, I couldn't find anything...as if they had occlumency barriers blocking me. After breaching the boy's, I found minimal memories of Harry...and no memories of the past week. I attempted this with Petunia too, having the same results. Vernon's shields have as of yet been unbreached, and I believe he might hold the key to who did this."

Sighing, she looked into the Chief—Albus' eyes, aged by 50 years in the last 30 minutes, looking almost haggard versus when they met after his alarms linked to Harry activated. "You may enter his mind and attempt to gather info after he's recovered enough, I think he just might die if you try now." Nodding, Albus walked off to apparate.

Turning around to talk with the fast approaching figure, Kingsley asked her to follow him back into the house. "Ma'am, the cupboard under the stairs?"

"The one with the misplaced door?"

"That's the one...well...maybe just come have a look."

Following Kingsley's motion, she crouched down and looked into the dark room. Bringing out her wand and casting Lumos, she was shocked to her absolute core, all sympathy for the muggles gone. "By Merlin's balls..."

"What do we do, ma'am?" Kingsley's voice strained, whether it was fury or sadness she did not know. Remus Lupin looking murderous next to him.

"We preserve this, close it and make everybody forget it exists. This might just be the leverage we need." Placing her hand on Remus' shoulder, "We'll find him Remus, trust me." Her eyes holding his with a heartfelt kindness.

After closing the room and casting wards to protect it, they nodded to each other before closing the front door and apparating out. Privet Drive would never see the Dursley's again.


	3. The Residence

**Guardian Wand**

A/N: This one took more words to properly articulate than I would have liked, most of it in anyway. So this one's got a lot of dialogue...sorry? Ooooooh, and we're building some suspense for a little side-story. Not sure how much I'll do of it, like as a piece at the end of a chapter ? Maybe I'll do most of a chapter on it, I dunno. Again, lemme know what you think, I can't improve if I don't know what people think.

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

 **[Time undisclosed]**

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (First Class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; was pissed. Harry had not only been abused by his relatives, but now he was kidnapped by some...some dark wizard.

Sinking into his seat, feeling older than anybody even at his impressive age maybe should, he felt the whole world looking down at him. He was powerless once more. There was a new player to this game, one that didn't fear him, but has as of yet not proven himself to be coupled with Voldemort. No dark marks in the sky, no overly bloody scenes, and no obvious hatred towards the muggles...only those that seemed to harm Harry, if nothing else.

He'd have to pull some strings and call some old friends to see if anybody knew who this new player was. Nothing made him quite as nervous as an unknown...and this was apparently a deadly unknown.

* * *

 **[Approx. 2 hours after incident]**

Pulling into the garage at an unassuming house in central London, close to 10 at night, Magnus looked at Harry, happily sleeping in his seat. Looking at this child erased any doubts, regrets, or guilt he may have felt after doing what he did. Getting out of the car, he entered the house to check if everything was okay. Making sure there weren't any intruders, bugs, negative wards, curses, jinxes, or charms on, in, and around the house, he made his way back into the garage.

Waking Harry up wasn't hard, it seemed the kid was a light sleeper. What got him were his eyes. The second they opened, they were filled with worry, sadness, stress...anger. It all washed away when he focused on Magnus' eyes, filling with hope and a slight happiness. Smiling down at Harry, he said "Hey little man, we're here. Want some dinner?" An enthusiastic nod met his words, before Harry was shown into the house.

"Alright, so," beckoning down the hall, your room's the one on the left, mine's the one straight down, to the right is the bathroom, okay?" Again, a nod. "Great, now, what would you like to eat?"

"Um...I don't know sir...I can cook something if you'd like? Aunt Petunia made me cook and I got really good! I think...she never said that my cooking was good, but the bit I was allowed to have tasted okay!", his breathing speeding up a bit too much.

"Harry, Harry, calm down." Crouching down in front of Harry, Magnus put a hand on his shoulder, "Nobody's gonna hurt you again if I can stop it, and as I said, you can do what you want here...for the most part."

A slightly less worried nod met his words, before he pulled Harry into a hug, "Don't worry kid, I've got you now, and I ain't letting you out of my sight, got it?"

"Y-yes sir!"

"Just call me Mag or Magnus alright Harry? I'm not that much older in anyway. Now, let's get to work with some food." Motioning to a seat by the kitchen's small island, he started pulling out ingredients to cook with; bacon joining eggs, before some spaghetti noodles were thrown in a pot on the stove, a pan being warmed up with butter.

"C-can I ask a question, M-Magnus?" Turning around from the pan he was observing, he met Harry's eyes and smiled, "Sure thing. What'd you like to know?"

"Th-those lights I saw outside of my room before aunt Petunia screamed...what was that?"

Blinking, Magnus realised Harry had never been told that magic existed...'Figures.'

"That...dear Hadrian, was magic.", accentuated with a swish of his arms, the still solid eggs and bacon growing arms, legs, and doing an almost perfectly orchestrated dance routine, ending with them jumping on the pan. Smirking at his reaction, consisting of blinking with a gaping mouth. "Yes, magic exists, and I'm pretty good at it, if I say so myself." Winking at Harry, coaxing a smile from him.

"Magic...is...real?"

"Yep! And you, dear boy, are gonna be a really powerful wizard, just you wait and see."

"You promise?!" His almost squeal of happiness making Magnus smile at the pan, now filled with some eggs. "I do buddy, I do. I'm gonna train you myself in fact."

Thinking to himself that he hoped the agency never found out, as that was way out of line for a charge...let alone one of 9 years. 'Fuck it...they'll pass me for training this kid.'

Plating up some, now done, eggs, bacon, and spaghetti, he watched as Harry looked almost ready to burst. "Well? Dig in!" Not needing to be told twice, he happily went about destroying his plate of food.

Dishing up for himself, Magnus sat down next to Harry. "Is it good?"

Sucking in a noodle, Harry's only reply was content chewing and swallowing...too hungry to even reply.

Smiling, Magnus started eating himself, only stopping when Harry asked, "Magnus? How old are you? You don't look very old."

Chuckling, "I'm 19 Harry, only 10 years older than you." Glancing over to Harry, he saw the gleam in his eyes, "Why do you ask?"

"Nobody older than me has ever really treated me nicely...I'm just...thank you."

Ruffling Harry's hair, Magnus assured him that was never gonna happen again.

"Magnus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I have some more?"

Laughing, he dished more food for Harry.

"Do you wanna go bath or shower before going to bed? Or would you like to do something else?"

"I-I saw some books in the living room...I was wondering if I could maybe..."

Understanding the underlying question, Magnus replied, "Harry, whatever happened at the Dursley's...", tensing a little at the name," it's not the same here, alright? If you wanna read everything in there, be my guest. Hell, I'll buy you as many books as you want, alright? I'm here to keep you safe and happy."

"Thank you!" Before Magnus was enveloped by a pair of slim, short arms. 'This is new.'

"My pleasure, kid. But I have to put down some rules, okay?"

"O-okay." His body sagging with a dejected look on his face.

Sighing, after rubbing his temples, he clarified, "Harry, I don't mean you're gonna work or there are going to be limits, I'm doing it to make sure you're prepared for your future."

"I understand, Magnus."

Forcefully softening his gaze, Magnus explained, "It's simple things, alright? First, no going to bed after 10, I want you comfortably in bed by 10 to make sure you get enough sleep. I'll be waking you up at 9 this week, and then at 8 the next, and finally at 7, every morning. I do not want your room in a constant mess, nor do I want the kitchen or living room looking like a tornado struck them. You can leave things where they lie, as long as the room itself isn't abhorrent. Follow me so far?"

After receiving a nod, he continued, "I'm also going to be training you, magically, as much as I can. So next week, 6 days from now, we're definitely starting exercise. Running, weights, a physically healthy wizard is a powerful one."

Picking up their plates, he put them down in the sink. "Finally, there is a large wardrobe in your room, it should all fit you perfectly. Don't worry if you find some of the clothes weird, we made sure your wardrobe had magical clothing too."

"Um...'We', Magnus?" A sharp gleam in his eyes.

Smiling, Magnus answered simply, "The people I work for Harry. Don't worry about it, they're only looking after your best interests. Now, I'm gonna go have a shower, you can do whatever you want, except leave, alright?" Another nod being his answer, he got up and went into the kitchen.

* * *

 **[Approx. 48 hours after incident]**

It was almost midnight when the floo at Bones manor lit up. Amelia Bones, now off-duty, moving two glasses of '55 Merlin's Merlot forward on the table she was sitting at, 5 meters away from the floo. A figure in a long, regal, black dress stepped out.

Black heels stepping onto soft carpet, moving slightly forward and turning around, the floo flared again, capturing her face in a ghostly green glow. Regal features standing out, dark hair accentuated with slight greying around the temples. Another figure stepped through, clad in a brown jacket, blue jeans, and maroon heels. Her hair as dark as the first, if not as greying.

The figures hugged in a manner reminiscent of family or close friends, before moving to the table, Amelia meeting them at the edge. She found herself hugging them too, letting out a relieved sigh at them being able to meet so clandestinely.

The second's features were much like the firsts, now in decent light. Regal, although holding a softer edge to it.

"Alright, Narcissa, Andromeda. Let's sit down and discuss what we've found recently." Unable to hold her smirk any longer, she added "And I promise mine's going to be the best."


	4. The Healer

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

Nearly spitting out her mouthful of wine, Narcissa quickly placed a hand over her mouth, Andromeda asking the question for her.

"So, Harry Potter has been kidnapped, it doesn't seem to have been forced either. Harry Potter was also heavily abused. Heavily. Finally, the family was mutilated pretty badly-"

"Only the father."

Quickly jumping into the conversation, Amelia responded, "Only the father, yes, thank you 'Cissa. The mother wasn't mutilated per se, but the son was...somehow transfigured into a weird...I don't know. A baby troll seems like the most accurate description. The worst part though was that his whole...'anatomy' was transfigured, understand?"

Andromeda clearing her throat after having choked herself, she asked, "And you said there were runes carved into the bone? As in they were still alive?" This was met by a nod from Amelia.

"Shit. Any marks on their flesh?"

"No. There was blood, as if they were cut into to carve the runes, but not cleaned afterwards. The flesh was just healed after they were done."

The Black sisters simply responded with shudders and sympathetic nods. Narcissa asking the big one. "So... who's the new player?"

Taking another sip of her wine, Amelia contemplated everything she'd seen, scanned, and read in reports from all the aurors on the scene. "I don't know. Nobody does. Dumbledore fears this one, I think he does. He called me looking like a scared puppy asking if I'd found anything yet, as if I had time with all of these politicians on my ass." Taking another sip, she cleared her throat and continued, "I did however get a report from a spy that did some of his own digging...and nobody knows anything."

Eyes widening slightly, Narcissa refilled her glass. "So, what do we do now? Is there anything we even can do?" Andromeda looking from her to Amelia, the question on her face too.

"I don't know. You can maybe prod around, quietly, and see what you can learn. I'll keep my eyes and ears open. I recommend you two do the same, this one might tip the balance, and Voldemort, Dumbles too maybe, may be pissed off that they suddenly aren't the only ones on people's minds."

Hearing a sound coming from the hallway outside the parlour they were inhabiting, three well trained wands were directed at the door. The voice that accompanied the door opening though, had the wands hidden faster than they were pulled. Susan Bones, Amelia's only remaining family, her charge, and niece, walked into the room, looking exceptionally tired.

"Aunty, what's going on?" Trying, and failing, to wipe her eyes open.

"Me and some friends were just having a drink, Susie. Want me to go tuck you back in?"

A small nod meeting her question, she rose and grabbed Susan, saying she'd return shortly.

"So, Andy, how's my niece?"

"Nymphadora's doing good, I believe. I haven't had to struggle too much, but with her being 16 now...she's now starting to really stress me out. Boys coming and going, pranks, fights...I miss when she was younger."

Letting out a small laugh, Narcissa responded "My little snob-Draco's starting to take after his father too much...looks just like him too."

Amelia entered the room to some light laughter from both women. "What'd I miss?"

"Andy and I were just discussing our children."

"Ooh! Well Susan recently..."

The conversations continuing to well past 2 a.m.

* * *

 **[22:15pm, Approx. 72 hours after retrieval of charge]**

Standing in a small alley in London, a dark figure was poised to attack at the slightest move. Footsteps were nearing the alley, slightly rushed, obviously in some form of distress. The footsteps suddenly cut out just before the entrance of the alley.

Some slight shuffling, followed by, "Romeo, Alpha, Victor, Echo, November."

Cocking back the hammer of his Webley, Magnus wasn't taking chances with security leaks. A curt "Lima, Alpha, Lima, Charlie-5."

The newcomer rounding the corner with their hands up.

"Nice to see you again, Daisy." Holstering his revolver and holding a hand out.

"You too, Corvus." 'Daisy' replies, shaking Magnus' hand.

A glance at Daisy, and around the alley, had Magnus asking "Shall we move?"

A nod being his answer, he lightly grabbed Daisy's arm, before disapparating.

Finding themselves in a living room, 'Daisy' wrapped her arms around Magnus.

"I've been so worried, Mag", softly muttered into his jacket.

"I told you not to." Smirking down at her, "Come now Katy, we both know I can take care of myself."

"And we both know you'd do anything to fulfil the mission, including getting yourself killed." Stepping back, she wiped some hair out of her eyes, before looking up at Magnus. A question in her eyes at his smile.

"This one isn't like others. I'm not taking lives this time, I'm protecting one. Which is why I asked you to meet up. You're the only healer I really trust, Katherine, and I know you have access to everything you might need."

Looking around, and not noticing anybody else around, she glanced back at him, "Who?"

Palming his forehead, Magnus chuckled. "He's having a shower, or did in anyway. I'll go get him. All you need to know right now, is that he was abused to an unknown extent, and is definitely underfed. I've been feeding him as much as I can, but I think he's gonna need some supplements to start making a full recovery."

"Don't worry Mag, I got this." Her smile his reassurance, he went down the hall to summon Harry.

The now named Katy, or Katherine, started packing some things out of the small backpack she had on. A multitude of potions were sorted into what she would need, what she might need, and the redundant ones were discarded back into the bag. Finally, she got out some magnifying spectacles, some small surgical knives, and two syringes.

Returning from the hallway, Magnus was being followed by a young boy. Likely 7 or 8, dark raven hair, underfed, healing bruises, slight limp, one arm was still slightly swollen, and he had a pretty harrowed look. What caught her off guard though, were the emerald green eyes, and the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Seeing Katy's dumbfounded look, he smirked, "Did I forget to mention that my charge is Harry Potter? Oh dear, terribly sorry."

Glaring at him, she stretched a hand out to Harry, "Hello Harry, I'm a good friend of Magnus'. My name's Katherine, or Katy for short. I'm here to have a look at you, to make sure you're in tip-top shape, alright?"

Harry, glancing at Magnus who gave him a small nod with a smile, he took her hand, "Hi! Okay you can look at me if you want to." His nervousness seemingly disappearing almost immediately.

"Great, just have a seat and we can start." Again, glaring at Magnus, she directed Harry to one of the couches, mouthing 'You could have told me!'. Taking out her wand, she started scanning Harry, layers of light coalescing into a mist over him, different colours highlighting some parts of him. A final spell created what looked like a screen of information on the nearest wall, showing a seeming entire anatomy of Harry, with circles and boxes denoting injuries at different areas.

"Alright, let's see here. Some badly healed bones, old cracks in some bones, some permanent muscle damage, damage to ocular nerves, some internal organ damage, definite undernourishment, heavy wear on some joints...that's...weird." Magnus' glare worsening with every malady listed, suddenly shooting up at her words.

"Weird?"

Quickly glancing at him and back to her 'screen', she continued, "His magical core's bound really tightly. Normally it'd have some loose bounds that can stretch with the child, helping them grow just as they help it. His is above average, which doesn't surprise me, if nothing else, the Potter's were notoriously powerful. But the spell itself normally has some leeway too." Seeing his and Harry's questioning looks, she continued.

"Think of the spell as chains wrapped around a water balloon, the chains are as 'un-extended as they can be at first, with some slack in the chains themselves too, as your core grows, the chains straighten out, but not all the slack is taken. Eventually your core starts taking up the slack between the links too, and at 11 it is automatically weakened by Hogwarts' wards, and fully removed when you're sorted. Or, it kinda...dissipates at 13, but it might harm the witch or wizard. The problem with Harry is that his chains are already practically strained at their limit. In 2 years, by the time he hits 11, those links will suddenly give way, and he basically becomes a magical bomb. He could accidentally kill thousands, it'd be a massive blast."

Finally looking away from her screen at Magnus and Harry, the latter looking as if he was cooking up ideas to help Harry faster than any human could hope to, and Harry was just looking scared.

"I-I don't wanna kill people Magnus. Katy."

The pain in his eyes visible to the older two. Magnus glanced at Katy, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"Don't worry yet guys. Harry, your magic desperately wants to fix your body, which is why it's so strained, but because of the blocks, it can't release enough magic at one time to accomplish that. So, what we're gonna do is fix you up and get you healthy. That would greatly help in reducing stress on your core and blocks, after that we can look at how to remove it or enlarge it. Sound good?"

Receiving a nod from both, she waved her wand and her spells seemed to fizzle out, before handing Harry a potion. "Here you go, first one. This one's gonna make you a bit sleepy, but don't worry if you do fall asleep okay?"

Nodding, Harry swallowed it down in three sips. "That stuff is horrible!" Smirks meeting his exclamation.

The adults sitting down to breathe as Harry fell under the influence of his Dreamless Sleep potion, Katy looked over to Magnus. "How did any of this happen Mag? Our savior, beaten and abused, now under the protection of probably the most psychotic man I know?"

A smile gracing her features, "Y'know, it makes sense that you're the one protecting him. I saw that glimmer of care in your eyes every time somebody of your squad was brought in, and it only worsened the less you were. You've still got a human part to you, even if you don't wanna admit it. This kid might be as good for you, as you are no doubt gonna be for him."

Looking deep into her eyes, he said the first thing that came to mind, "I don't want the world to ever find him."

Her eyes edging him on, "He's been through hell in a god damned basket, and he's not even gone to Hogwarts or anything yet...He's barely lived and already he carries himself like an aged man."

Leaning against him, the only words he could hear were, "You're gonna do fine. Nobody knows you yet, and your magic and fighting skills are above most Death Eaters I've ever heard described. Don't worry, we'll get him healed up in no time."

Giving her a grateful smile, she stood up. "Now, this is gonna take a while, and his magic is probably gonna fight me along the way, so I'm gonna need you to assist me on this."

Nodding, he stood beside her, "Let's roll."

* * *

Two hours later, found the adults tucking a heavily bandaged Harry into his bed.

Closing the door behind him as he walked out, he walked into the kitchen, finding Katy nursing a cup of tea.

"Congrats, that was some impressive work." Sitting beside her, pouring a tumbler of Ogden's Finest.

"That...was exhausting. You know how stressful it is operating on the 'Boy-Who-Lived'? One slip-up, and I become public enemy number 1."

"Yeah, but you didn't make any mistakes, now did you?" At the shake of her head he threw an arm over her shoulders, "So there, we're done operating, he's gonna fully recover in two days or so, you did great."

A small smile adorning her features, she leaned into him again.

"Want something for dinner?" Magnus asked, looking down at her head.

"Nah, I think I just wanna go sleep."

"You can crash here if you'd like. You can take my bed or the couch."

A mischievous glint entering her eyes, she asked "How big is your bed?"

Raising an eyebrow, "Queen..."

Barely finishing his sentence before she stood up and dragged him towards the end of the hall, "Dibs on small spoon."

A chuckle escaping his lips, "As if I had a choice."

* * *

 **[Time Undisclosed]**

Albus Dumbledore's mood hadn't improved at all in the time since Harry's disappearance. Awaiting replies from several of his informants on whereabouts of Harry or information on this 'dark figure'.

Nobody had found anything, yet. He was hoping yet. He needed as much leverage against the newcomer as he could get, for the future of the greater good laid in their hands.

A barn owl flying in, discarding the letter in held, and flying out again before he could even blink. Picking up the letter, he read the title.

'Dr. Jane Goodwin, Chief of Critical Care, St. Mungos, London.'

He may have just gotten another foothold in this war after all.

* * *

A/N: Did I do good? Was it too much filler? Whatever your answer, I hope you found at least some fun in reading this. Longest chapter so far. We'll see how long ch. 5 takes. Again, any suggestion, comments, critique, questions, or small talk is welcomed in both my PMs and reviews.

Have a good one.


	5. The Goblins

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

 **[7:37am, safehouse]**

Jerking awake, drenched in sweat, Magnus could barely make out a shape in the doorway before having his Webley trained at the figure.

"Magnus?" Kate's voice interrupting his train of actions.

Eyes focusing, he saw the concerned fear on her face.

"Mag? You okay?" Her movements towards him slow and calculating.

Lowering and looking at the heavy weight in his hands, he shakily answered, "Yeah, yeah. Just...just some stress...and nightmares. Nothing to worry about, I'm fine."

Placing a hand under his chin, she pulled his eyes up, her angry glare not what he was expecting.

"I told you to see a shrink, Mag. What the hell? You said you would make time. You need help."

Chuckling, he silkily said, "I've got 6 chambers point-455 to help." Her actual anger at him making him uncomfortable.

"Kate, I'm fine, I swear. I just have some nightmares now and again." Replacing the revolver under his pillow.

"No, no, you're not fine. The longer you keep that stuff inside the more it corrupts you. You got a B+ in Psych War remember...you should know this."

Getting up and walking out of the room, Kate following, he entered the kitchen and turned to look at her after turning his coffee machine on.

"I'm fine, alright?" Letting some of his irritation show, "It just comes back now and again."

"Fine, but eventually you're gonna make a mistake and you might end up losing Harry because of it."

Her words ringing in his skull, he shook his head and simply asked her, "What do you wanna drink with breakfast?"

* * *

 **[Approx. 11:30am, British Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement]**

A knock sounding on her door, a head of curly blonde hair sticking through.

"Miss Bones? The Minister and Headmaster Dumbledore would like to see you."

Leaning back into her chair, Amelia Bones sighed, she knew why.

"When, Mary?"

"N-now, ma'am."

Frowning before taking a deep breath, she nodded at Mary.

Moments later had a stout, balding, fearful looking man, one Cornelius Fudge, pacing her office; his plum coloured hat clutched in his claw-like fingers. The other member, one Albus Dumbledore, while not looking as outwardly stressed; had a panicked look in his eyes.

Looking at each in turn, she sighed and asked, "How can I help you gentlemen?"

Fudge practically leaping in fright at her, he quickly took a seat to calm himself.

"Director Bones, I had recently received word that a certain mister Dursley had recovered enough for me to...question him. I finally managed to break his shields, after almost 2 hours of work, to find the same results as with his family. Bar one new memory, the man that did that had an ID badge belonging to Waverly Company. I couldn't make out his ID, face, or any discerning features, only the name of the company on his badge."

Eyes widening slightly, she realised that this was going to be extremely dangerous ground to tread. The Waverly Company being notorious for having ties to almost every government. Their reputation stemming from the.

World-class assassins, cleaners, soldiers, politicians, lawyers, even technicians in some cases, all under one banner. The Ministry themselves had granted them almost too much power during the first war with Grindlewald, and then even more during the second with Voldemort.

An untouchable powerhouse, the entirety of Britain could be theirs in less than 24 hours after the order had been given, if her estimates were right in anyway. Nobody knew for sure how many agents, connections, networks, and abilities they held for sure, it was however well known that they were a feared faction.

Shifting her monocle, she started making guesses of their involvement, and the levels they were involved to. She looked at Albus, he had more to say it would seem, as he straightened out and took a deep breath.

"I called in a favour from an old friend, and got in contact with a few of the main handlers. Not one of them having any knowledge of a recent contract concerning magical Britain, Harry, or Privet drive in Surrey. I did, however, reach one of their assistants, that said a highly confidential contract had recently been signed, based in Britain, and its magical counterpart."

Leaning forward, Amelia urged Dumbledore to continue, abiding her, he continued.

"She let slip that codename 'Corvus' accepted the job. I've currently got informants scouring to discover anything about a Corvus with ties to Waverly."

Nodding, Amelia took out some parchment and a quill.

"Any descriptors?"

Running a hand through his thigh-length beard, Albus seemed deep in thought, before answering.

"Long, dark hair. Tall. Intimidating aura. Exceptional magical saturation."

"That...that might actually be useful. Thank you, Chief Warlock."

"My pleasure, Director." A smile reaching his eyes, before standing up.

"Alas, there is much for this wizard to do, so, I bid you an adieu. Amelia, Minister." A nod at both in turn, he walked out of her office.

Looking at his retreating back, Amelia sighed before leaning back once more.

Glancing at the diminutive ball of fear, she rolled her eyes before asking, "And yourself, Minister?"

His eyes moving to hers and back to his hat. "I-I need you to handle...handle this...whole...s-situation Amelia! Immediately!"

"I know, sir. We have more leads now, so I can put an APB out and get him before the end of the week." Rolling her eyes at the Minister's gullibility. This 'Corvus' was probably not one for peacefully surrendering, and she doubted three full squads of aurors could intimidate this man.

"Minister, we will have this under control soon."

"See that you do Amelia, see that you do."

Glaring at the man's retreating form, she dug a flask out of her desk drawer.

"So...Corvus is your name...let's hope you can play these men's games. Or that they can play yours."

* * *

 **[10:48am, following day, Diagon Alley]**

Leading Harry into the Leaky Cauldron, Magnus ensured Harry and his glamour's were still in place. They calmly entered, finding it almost empty. 'Three wizards in the back left corner, two at the bar (One asleep), one wizard next to the stairs, two witches next to the exit'...shaking his head, Magnus focused on keeping Harry moving. A small wave and grunt from Tom assuring him they were fitting in, he led Harry into the back alley.

"Ready, 'James'?" A smirk following his question. Harry still twirling his less bushy, sandy brown hair. His now blue eyes meeting Harry's dark brown eyes.

"Yes sir, 'Mister Burnwood'." A knowing smile meeting Magnus', he started tapping on the bricks.

"Ta-da!" A slight flourish of his hands motioning Harry forward.

A dumbfounded look was all he received, with a shuffling forward. Harry's eyes hungrily roving over everything. Shops, alleys, rooftops, he was absolutely absorbing as much as he could. Magnus' hand on his shoulder guiding him through the crowds like a knife, people parting quickly at Magnus' aura.

Stopping at the steps of Gringotts, Harry couldn't help but be enthralled by the breathtaking masonry, enormous marble columns, and four short, heavily armed and armored figures flanking the doors.

"Almost there James." Ushering him up the stairs, Magnus glanced at the guards, accidentally looking one in the eyes. The goblin growling to intimidate him, receiving a petrifying grin in return.

Walking inside, Harry and he fell into a short line, two wizards in front of him. Looking down at Harry, he whispered.

"Now remember, you're James Miller, I'm Peter Burnwood. We're just here for me to get info for now. We'll see how thing play out from here." Patting Harry's head to reassure him, he patted his Webley under his left shoulder, and knives under his right. War-based race or not, he'd show them some true fucking fear if they meant to harm Harry.

A hoarse "Next!" breaking him out of his thoughts, they walked up.

"Greetings, teller Bonegrind. May your axe stay sharp against the skulls of your enemies."

Raising a brow, the goblin replied, "A human with respect for others? May Ragnok the First strike me down. What can I do for you, wizard?"

Leaning forward, Magnus simply muttered, "I got a contract for WC. I'm looking for more info on the contract."

Bonegrind's attention seemingly piqued, he leaned closer to Magnus.

"Contract ID?"

"Bravo, Romeo, India, dash five, five, nine, seven, four, two, nine, Delta."

Looking from Magnus to Harry and back, Bonegrind slid off his chair, "Follow me, I shall take you to our liason offices. They'll be able to get any documents you need."

Following the goblin for almost 700 metres, they came to some doors with a plaque reading 'Liason Office'. Leading them in, Bonegrind motioned to some chairs.

"Wait there, I'm going to make sure somebody's able to help you."

Nodding, Magnus glanced at Harry. "You okay?"

A nod before an exclamation of "Yes! This is so cool!'

Smiling, his attention was drawn to approaching footsteps. Bonegrind rounding a corner before motioning for them to follow. Following him once more, they entered a neatly decorated office. Dark wood walls complimenting darker floors.

Grasping Bonegrind's forearm in greeting, he thanked him, Bonegrind replying with "If ever you need anything, wizard, ask for Bonegrind. I hope to see you soon again, Corvus." A toothy grin metting Magnus'.

"I shall, Bonegrind."

Leaving the office with just three inhabitants, Magnus sized up the man behind the desk. Jonathan Hopkirk, midde-aged, semi-athletic build, training in posture, 10+ year career with WC, not an immediate threat. His musings interrupted by the man taking off his glasses and closing the file he was writing in.

Stretching a hand out, he shook Magnus and Harry's hands. "I am happy to see you here, Agent Corvus, and you, master Harry Potter. I am rather elated you are being taken proper care of, it would seem young Corvus learned some patience after all." Smiling at both, he retrieved a file from his desk.

"I believe you are here for this. The will, the contract, contacts, information on as many enemies as possible, the whole ordeal." Taking the file, Magnus shrunk it and placed it into a jacket pocket.

"Do be careful with that Corvus. Those files are of extreme political interest. I expect you to behave as trained. Discreet, inconspicuous, efficient. You are excused." Thanking Hopkirk, the two travelled back outside.

"Now...what to do...shall we do ice cream first?" A pair of large eyes turning towards him, he laughed before ushering harry towards Florean's. Ordering a two-scoop cone each, Harry taking chocolate and mint, Magnus choosing two vanilla's, they sat down in general peace.

Finishing his cone, Magnus sat back casually, and started surveying passers-by. Mentally building a list for every person he saw, a multitude of pops found his wand in his hand, ready to fight.

Looking around, he realised what all the pops were...they just caught the brunt of the school-shopping traffic. The alley going from a calm atmosphere to an almost suffocating amount of people in the span of 5 minutes.

"Time to finish up, Harry. We've got to move before too much traffic builds up and we can barely move." An understanding nod, they got up, moving through the now much denser crowds with general ease.

"Alright, next is Flourish and Blotts. We need some books for you, and I need a book or two. Next shop on the right." Harry's hunger for knowledge practically carrying him to the book store.

Finding and entering it, they found it not yet quite as packed, allowing them to quickly get their books.

As Magnus was browsing the History section, he felt another presence enter the aisle...a presence he would rather not have wanted. 'Amelia Bones, approx. 31 years of age, approx 1.7m/5'6". Current Director of the DMLE, respected dueler, feared auror. Spell repertoire is expanded, very adept at defensive fighting, requires a strong companion for effective attacking. Intelligence is unknown, definitely above average. Avoid at all costs.'

Looking to his left, he noticed he was in a dead end, with Amelia's side being his only exit. Grabbing the three books he was interested in, he steeled himself, trying to instill confidence in his glamour charms. Walking towards the end, he was barely a metre away from Amelia, when she glanced at him. Doing a double take, she smiled at him, simply remarking with "Hello, I've never seen you before. How do you do?" Stretching out her hand, he met it with a calm demeanor, bringing her hand up to his mouth, trailing his lips over her knuckles.

"Fine thank you ma'am, yourself?" A dazzling smile following.

"I am fine, thank you. I am Amelia Bones, and you are...?"

"Peter, Peter Burnwood."

Cleaning her monocle, she placed it back and replied, "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Burnwood. Have you recently moved here? Or are you just visiting?"

"Please Miss Bones, just Peter. I have actually recently moved here, with my godson, James Miller. I've just come to get some books to inform myself, and maybe teach him a bit."

Smiling again, she replied "Well, Peter, I would prefer Amelia to Miss Bones. And how old is James?"

"He's 9 now, almost going to Hogwarts."

"My niece, Susan, is 9 too. It would seem they are going together then."

"Well, Amelia, I fear I must leave, I still have a few stops. I bid you a good day." Smiling and kissing her knuckles again, "Adieu."

"Perhaps I shall see you again, Peter." She softly called after him, him turning around, giving her a devilish grin, and continuing.

Looking back at the books in front of her, Amelia remembered suddenly why she was in that aisle...that aura...intimidating, calculating, and aggressive. She could see that 'Peter Burnwood' had a glamour on, she just wasn't sure how deep the glamour went. He definitely didn't carry himself 'normally'. There was a predatory edge to everything he said and did. This man might not fit her descriptors for 'Corvus', but he damn well could have been. Had Amelia just danced with the devil?

* * *

 **[Time Undisclosed]**

"Lord Malfoy, are you sure our forces are strong enough?"

"Yes, Karkaroff. We needn't level the alley, only intimidate the filth into remembering who holds the true power of magic." A grin practically splitting his face.

Standing up from his throne-like chair, Lucius Malfoy addressed the 100 or so gathered Death Eaters, from their lowest ranked cannon fodder, to some of the inner circle were there.

"Fellow soldiers! We stand at the brink of our Dark Lord returning! We will stand ready for our Lord to return to us, but we will not wait idly! Tomorrow, we attack Diagon Alley! I do not want a massacre, we need only remind that filth who holds the true power in this world, and it is the Dark!"

A round of applause, uproarious cheering, and clapping meeting his words.

"Tomorrow, we attack Diagon Alley and remind them that the Dark Lord will never abandon his people!"

More cheers meeting this, he smiled to himself.

'All this power is mine, we shall take magic back from those who sully it with their mudblood.'

* * *

A/N: Had some roadblocks with this one. Next chapter will be some action, maybe a threat or two, and hopefully some character building. We'll see. As always, PM or review with suggestions, critiques, comments, small talk, or ideas.

Have a good one.


	6. The Battle

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

 **[Con. From Flourish and Blotts]**

Finding Harry in the process of bidding a small redhead girl farewell, Magnus guided him to the counter. Placing his and Harry's books on the counter, he placed down the precise amount before shrinking and placing their books in a moleskin bag, he nodded and smiled at the wordless clerk, before ushering Harry to the door.

Once outside, they started down an adjacent street, before Magnus asked Harry, "So who's your redhead friend?" His smile interrupted by Harry slightly frowning. Holding his hands up, he exclaimed "Whoa! Whoa there, buddy. I don't mean to tease, I honestly just wanted to know to catalogue her."

Stopping and looking up at Magnus, his moping frown morphing into an inquisitive frown, he asked "Catalogue her?"

Guiding Harry to a nearby bench, Magnus explained "When I say 'cataloguing', I mean I identify and judge people, to see if I can estimate what their stature is, and observe their posture, scars, wrinkles, callouses, dominant side, political alignment, etcetera, etcetera. Plus, if I know who she is, I can maybe get cozy with her parents for you to have as much time as you want with her."

Smiling at the last bit, Harry asked him to elaborate on the necessity of all these elements.

Happily accepting somebody looking for wisdom, he continued, "Well, let's see...Posture can determine their overall health, thus a guess on how fast they can react, for one. Next, scars can allude to a fighting style, if you know what you're looking for; amongst other things, it can also maybe mention at a weakness in their defensive coverage, speed, styles of eluding danger, and maybe at a stretch, magical strength. Wrinkles generally suggests age, habits, like smoking or drinking. Callouses also allude to one's dominant side, fighting style, and general fitness; it's also often times a dead giveaway on how people hold and use their wands, which makes precise spells easier to weave through a shield or barrage."

Realising he'd been talking for a while, he glanced down at Harry, the aforementioned entranced, rapidly nodding for him to continue.

Smiling, "The rest are easy. Dominant side also influences fighting styles. Political alignments can mean the difference between a kill, or a spare. Those aligned to the dark are generally aggressive, attacking first, that's a kill. The light side is normally more subdued, and use spells that don't make your lungs boil out of your ass, that's a spare...normally. The main problem there is that most people are technically differing shade between them, which obviously makes it really hard to determine if you should have a trigger, a wand, or a wave ready. All of this stuff makes people who they are, and all of it is stereotypical and clichéd. As much as anybody ever wants to tell you they're unique, they're not."

Looking back to Harry, still entranced, he smiled and ruffled his hair.

"You, young James, are quite the enigma though." Throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him closer, Magnus sank down in his seat a bit.

"You've been through hell kid...yet you're still so kind, open-minded, excited...Never change lil' guy. Never, ever, change who you are as a person."

Looking at the people crossing the street, he lightly shook Harry, motioning to a mother and daughter passing towards Gringotts.

"That however, is also pretty damned unique.", the daughter's hair a spiky bubble gum pink, suddenly lilting slightly and turning almost completely white when one of Gringott's guards growled at her as they entered.

"Cool!" The sudden cry causing Magnus to jump and laugh simultaneously.

"Alright, young Miller, where to ne-" His words cut off suddenly, silencing Harry before he even opened his mouth. He felt magic pouring in... a lot of apparation surges layering over another. Pulling Harry and himself up and moving in one fluid movement, he quickly made his way to Gringotts.

"What's going on, Ma-Mister Burnwood?" Reaching the doors, Magnus glanced down the road; seeing figures filing out from the Apparation Points, he redoubled his speed, nearly having to pick Harry up for him to stay close. He had an objective now, and stress-relief after. Today became very interesting.

Reaching Teller Bonegrind, he greeted him as their customs stated, receiving a genuine smile and reply, he quickly leaned closer to Bonegrind.

"My friend, I have a favour to ask." A nod, "I need you to keep Harry safe for me. Some DE scum just popped in, and I need this. Please, I need to get out before you guys lock down."

Quickly processing the question, he nodded quickly. "It would be my honour. Follow me, quickly."

"I don't have time!" Bonegrind's glare giving him no room for quarrelling, he relented and followed. Down a short Hallway, they came upon a heavy steel door. "This protects those of us here that cannot fight, in case there is a breach. The youngling may stay as long as you need."

Looking at Harry, he asked Bonegrind, "Could you maybe extend this invitation to one Susan Bones? She is Amelia Bones' niece. I saw them in the lobby." Harry's eyes widening, he explained simply "I saw a name next to a picture, I assumed that was the pictures name. I guess I was right." Looking back at Bonegrind, he received a nod.

Ruffling Harry's hair, and giving Bonegrind a forearm shake, he started back down the hall. Dispelling his glamours, he picked up his jacket's hood, its charms allowing him to stay anonymous and it on his head. Checking holsters, he took a knife in his left hand, wand shooting into his right. A psychotic grin nearly splitting his face.

Reaching the front door as a squad of goblin guards arrived, their questioning glares appeased with the knife in his hand and fist over his heart, he followed them outside.

'Chaos...chaos is probably the most appropriate word.'

Surveying the scene in front of him, he started making up a plan.

'One alone on the left, two ahead of him. Knife-wand-knife. Four on the right, wait for split off. Two on rooftops, top priority. Seven...Eight in street, close. Web 5, spell 3.' Smiling he checked his watch before taking off in a sprint.

The first Eater fell with two quick stabs into his left side, likely having hit the heart. 'One.'

Moving forward, he cast a piercing spell at the wizard he could see on the roof, the top half of his skull popping off. Approaching his next targets, he cast a cutting hex at the ones neck, before plunging his knife into the other's kidneys and liver. The firsts head rolling away as the second bled out on the pavement.

Crossing the street through the stampeding crowd, he exited it in front of the only straggler of the four, a knife entering his ribs twice before he realized there was somebody next to him, or his lungs collapsed. This had attracted the attention of the other three, pissing him off. Casting a Protego, he rebounded their mixture of bludgeoning, piercing, and cutting spells into the shop they were standing next to; covering them in shards of glass and wood.

Taking their disorientation as his chance to act, two cleaving spells met their targets, before a Bombarda met the lasts stomach, raining the area in bloody viscera. Spells hitting the area around him, he fled into the destroyed store, intent on finding a way through to the next shop. Not finding any doors, he blasted his way through the walls, finding himself two shops down.

Jumping out, he sent a wide cutting curse to the roof, the Eater attempting to crouch before his head and shoulders bade his body farewell. Looking down the street, he realised most of the closest group of Death Eaters were completely unaware of their surroundings, taking solace in torturing the civilians around them.

'17 metres. Travel 10, fire through. Wide Cleave.'

Running the 10 metres, he whipped out his Webley and emptied it into the closest three, killing five in total. The remaining three falling from piercing spells.

Looking barely further down, he saw one of them wearing a mask, before a grin formed on his face again.

'Rank found. Protected by 7. No other threats identified, guard held.'

Blending as much into the shadows as 5 o'clock sun allowed, he moved up the street, reloading his piece on the way.

Barely 4 metres away, he leapt at them, Webley in his left, wand in his right.

Felling two guardians with two squeezes of his trigger, two of them found their end decapitated.

A stray spell hitting the Web from his grip, he hurriedly cast Protego. Regretting getting this close now, he tried retreating. The number of spells the three Death Eaters were sending at him not allowing him any choice but shielding. Not knowing where his weapon landed, he went through his repertoire, selecting spells that would be useful.

'Gun charmed against summoning. Accio out. Position unknown, need time to recover. Offense not possible, spell time too short. Defense waning, 15 seconds left. Attempt at retreat not advised.'

If he attacked he'd be open too long, he couldn't defend forever, and retreating would probably leave him open too long, too.

His train of thought interrupted as the Eater furthest to his left gave out a shriek as a pike exited his chest. Precisely the chance he needed, he cleft the closest one vertically, stupefied the officer, and propelled the last into a brick wall...fast.

Acting quickly, he placed a portkey on the officer; it would deposit him at a Waverly cell to wait for Magnus to claim him. Looking up and down the street, he could feel the adrenaline leaving his body as he glanced at his watch again.

'24 kills. 6 minutes, 35 seconds. I've improved. Must write to Rawlings with my new score.'

A sudden snap, accompanied by the lifting of an oppressive weight, signalled the breaking of an anti-apparation ward. Cursing at being unable to retrieve his weapon first, he covered the almost 50 meters to the bank before aurors even started filing out of the entry points.

* * *

 **[Gringotts bank, 10 minutes before attack]**

Amelia Bones was shaken out of her thoughts by Susan tugging her hand.

"Aunt Amelia, the queue's open, we can go ahead."

Nodding her thanks, she stepped up to the counter.

"Afternoon, teller. I'd like to withdraw some money... and I was wondering how much information costs."

Giving her a toothy grin, the goblin leaned forward slightly

"That depends on what information you'd like, Miss Bones."

About to answer, her attention was diverted to movement from the door. Why was Peter running? She looked at the exchange between the goblin and unknown man, before they moved towards a door.

Looking back at the teller, she asked, "Information on a person that I didn't know existed until earlier today."

"Well, madam Bones", sitting back slightly, "That depends on the person. High ranking customers' information is expensive, if we even allow it to be sold."

Shaking her head, she was about to reply when she heard a scream from outside. Quickly looking towards the door, she noticed a darkly clad person walking towards the door, intercepting a squad of goblins.

That was her guy, and she knew it. The question was now if that was one 'Mister Burnwood', or if it was the so called 'Corvus'...or if they were one in the same.

About to approach him, she noticed a goblin just reaching them.

"Madam Bones, the bank would like to extend an invitation to you to safeguard your niece, until such a time that you're able to retrieve her."

Noticing her confused look, he elaborated, "An important client of the bank has extended his invitation to include one Susan Bones. I assure you madam, she will be safe."

Not able to form a coherent sentence, she simply nodded, kissed the top of Susan's head, and moved to the door, intent on speaking with or incapacitating this dark character. Walking outside just before the door's sealed, she looked around for aurors on duty, or the figure. Pissed at not finding any aurors available, having increased their density so as to deter attacks like this, she moved forward to fight. Stopping upon spotting a dark silhouette making two sharp motions next to a Death Eater, the Death Eater falling down almost instantly, she found herself unable to react at the fluidity of the figures movements.

Blinking, she counted four corpses already. 'How is he so fast?'

Gaining her focus back, she glanced down the streets, seeing goblins protecting the bank from all angles, she moved down Diagon, planning out her attacks.

Her foot leaving the last step, she heard six bangs louder than any magic ahead of her, her heart stopping in her chest. Guns were some of her most feared parts of the new generation of muggles. Little pieces of metal get propelled faster than any witch or wizard could ever react to, killing them as quickly as a death curse. Running forward, hoping now civilians shot, she saw the figure jumping into a store just before a Bombarda tore the ground under his feet asunder.

Trying to locate the Death Eater on the roof, she almost missed some loud bangs followed by the figure appearing out of a store next to the one he entered, cutting curse launched before he touched the ground. Following the exceptionally fast spell, she nearly lost her lunch at the red spray following the man's upper torso as it spun away from his body.

Glancing at where the figure was standing, she realized that he had disappeared in the interim. Hearing heavy footsteps behind her, she barely had time to dodge three goblins moving down Diagon, bloodied weapons held ready for more violence.

A stray cutting curse barely missing her neck, she ran into the nearest cover she had, Slug & Jiggers. Inside she sumbled upon one Narcissa Malfoy, wand in hand, her son cowering behind her.

"Narcissa! Why are they attacking?!"

Her stone face morphing into one of worry, "I have no idea, I didn't know anything about this!"

Nodding, she turned back to the store front, only to hear a man's scream. Peeking out of the store, she saw the fight was over, goblins moving back the bank. She saw the figure approaching a Death Eater, before placing what she affirmed was a portkey as the body disappeared.

Feeling the weight of Anti-Apparation wards lifting off her core, she saw the figure sprinting past her and entering the bank. Following his trail, she saw aurors swarming out of the alley's entry points. Bidding Narcissa farewell, she walked down the street to where the figure last was, nearly tripping over a heavy weight.

Looking down, she saw the gun she assumed made the noise. An idea popping into her head, she picked it up and placed it into her jacket's pocket, before meeting a squad of aurors, Kingsley in the lead, at the nearest group of bodies.

Looking at all the bodies, a few aurors had their lunches lost. Kingsley's amazed look asking the questions for him.

"Unknown assailant came out of nowhere, slaughtered these guys like a hippogriff stomping on pumpkins." Stowing her wand, she leaned into Kingsley, ensuring only he could hear her, "I think it was our latest...'friend'."

Eyes widening, he nodded, before saying, "Well...I've got the situation from here, Director Bones. If you could write a report yourself later it would be appreciated."

Looking at the Death Eaters around her, she nodded before walking back to the bank, intent on properly introducing herself to an unknown.

* * *

A/N: So as I was thinking what to say first, I realised I had never clarified uploading schedules. I'm gonna try to upload a new chapter every other day at latest. Anyway, did I overdo the descriptiveness? I had a friend read it and was ensured that I didn't overdo it, maybe give me your opinions on it. Next chapter we're pissing Dumbledore off, getting some juicy opportunities, and maybe making a friend or two. All PM's and reviews welcome, as always.

Have a good one.


	7. The Revelation

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

 **[cont.]**

Barely missing the quickly appearing aurors, Magnus reached the bank's steps, meeting a squad of goblins in the process of regrouping. Walking up to the highest-ranking goblin, he looked into its grizzled eyes through the slits on the goblin's helmet, the stare a dare to him to make an aggressive move. He could practically feel all the weapons poised to kill...15 if his numbers were correct.

Holding the stare, he lifted his right hand to expose his flank, and slowly extracted a knife with his left. Bringing it slowly forward, he flipped the knife and bowed his head, presenting his knife handle first to the goblin, which the goblin quickly took.

Some tension lifting, he glanced up to the commander to see him lifting his helmet's faceplate, intent on observing the weapon.

"A goblin weapon, boy? Lower your arms, brothers! He is accepted by the clans!" A Hoorah meeting the statement, Magnus felt the tension lift fully, yet kept his pose.

"Stand up straight, brother in arms. We mean one of ours no harm."

Standing up, he glanced down the street, seeing Bones approaching and aurors spreading. Accepting his blade back, he holstered it before asking the goblin commander if the lockdown had been lifted. Receiving a nod accompanied by a grunt, he placed his fist over his heart, receiving the same from the commander, he started for the doors.

"You're a good fighter, youngling! When the wizards tire of your skill, come to us. We shall meet you with open arms!" Waving back, he hastily entered the bank, heading directly to the hall he could find the safe room from.

A glance behind him through the now open door, he saw Amelia greeting the goblin commander, continuing at an almost casual pace towards him. She was gonna catch him some time, and he fucking knew it.

After exiting the public's view, he checked his holsters, cursing at the loss of his oldest and fondest weapon. He'd have to get into the Ministry to reclaim it then, which would be a Merlin-damned nightmare in itself. Halfway down the corridors his glamour's seemed to appear on him, as if water running down from the top of his head, his hood dropping before morphing into a collar of 'Peter's' jacket.

Turning into the next hallway, the end of which held the safe room, a loud cough caused him to turn, only to find Director Amelia Bones almost right next to him. A hard shove had him against a nearby wall, facing Amelia his right arm held in place by a surprisingly strong grip. His left hand however was holding a knife right next to her jugular vein. Feeling something pressing into his ribs, he glanced down to find a Webley in her right hand.

A smile gracing his face, he looked up to find a matching smile. "Nice. Your own?"

Her smile turning into an actual laugh, she pressed harder into his ribs, before calming herself. "We both know this is still loaded. There were only two shots for the last group. Now, you will fucking answer me, or I swear to God, Hecate, and Merlin that I will pull this trigger and paint the wall behind you with stomach and spine."

An emotionless stare meeting her eyes, he couldn't help himself, "Technically it'd punch a decent crater into even these old walls." A snorted grunt, somehow followed by a disgruntled growl, following his joke; the gun was pressed harder still, Amelia apparently having forgotten the blade next to her throat.

"Okay, okay. If that's mine, which I'm sure it is, then be careful. Very light trigger. Now, what the hell do you want?"

"I know you're somebody called 'Corvus', you have ties to Waverly, and I'm pretty damn sure you took Harry. Now, is that boy in there Harry? And if he is, and I ask him how you treat him, and it's anything less than 'I am so happy', you are greeting all of those Death Eaters in Hell. Understand?"

Confused expression forming on his face, he asked, "You know I'm Corvus ? And how sure are you that I have Harry?"

"I'm sure beyond any reasonable doubts. And everything points to him being with you. Now please, answer the questions!" The end of her sentence barely a loud whisper, he relented, and realised that Bones had ties to Harry. 'Constricted throat, glossy, slightly-red eyes, shake in her grip, fast breathing.'

"Yes, that is Harry." He felt the grips on the gun and his wrist loosen, and seized his chance. Quickly pulling his right hand free, he grabbed his gun, but let his momentum propel the gun down the hall.

Looking back at Bones he realised that she was now brandishing her wand. Sighing, he relented again, "Why do you care? He's legally my charge, I signed the contract in blood to authorize it."

Relenting slightly, she hissed, "He was supposed to be with me! That's why I care! The Potter's will was expressly disregarded when he disappeared. And the goblins would only open it for him after it was sealed. None of us coud find trace of Harry for eight years, and then one night I get a call from Dumbledore, Harry's living arrangements were attacked, and he was gone. Lo and behold, right under our noses this whole time...and under some fucking stairs."

An angry pair of eyes meeting his again, her fire quickly flickered out when she saw the pure fury in his. "Yeah I saw it. If you were there, you would've seen them too! They deserved every single rune on their worthless bones, and I know you agree."

Her wand falling away, she leaned into him, sobbing. "There was so much blood...How did he survive all that? Oh god..." Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and running his spare hand through her hair, he silkily said, "It's my understanding that Potters are notorious for being durable."

A chuckle meeting his statement, he pulled the now calm Amelia away, before casting some spells to clean her. "He's a good kid. And I am treating him as well as I can. Remember, you might be looking for him, but so is Voldemort. If you want, I'll let you greet him- _him_ , if he wants. But you're not seeing me, no idea when you might get pissed and put an APB on me."

About to gesture down the hall, he noticed her bare feet. "So that explains how you snuck up." Offering a hand for her to balance on as she put her shoes back on, they started back down the hall. Picking up his Webley along the way, he thanked her for bringing it to him, she thanking him for not letting the knife dig into her neck, a muttered thank you concerning cleaning her receiving a smile.

Two goblins protecting the room, presented their weapons, the witch and wizard's hands raised, Magnus said "We are here after an invitation was extended to us by Banker Bonegrind." Glancing at each other, the one leaned to a gold plate on the wall. Pressing a button, a muffled voice called out, him muttering something in return, followed seconds later by another voice, speaking for almost a minute. Another mutter was followed by the guard turning towards them.

"Manager Bonegrind has requested you and one Director Amelia Bones to go to conference room 7, accompanied by your charges."

Nodding, Magnus thanked the guard, whom only grunted and unlocked the door. An excited Harry and Susan peeking out. "Come on guys, we've got a meeting." With another fist over his heart greeting the guards, Magnus and the kids followed Amelia as she walked through the halls as if on home soil.

"Here it is, room seven."

"How'd you know how to get here?" He said, ushering the kids in.

"I accompany, and have filled in as, the goblin liaison on multiple occasions. They like warrior types, as you probably know, so I am a better buffer between politicians and warriors than most other candidates."

Nodding in understanding, he entered the conference room, finding platters of food and drinks laid out. The kids talking with Bonegrind, they approached the group.

"Banker Bonegrind. Thank you again for your invitation to the safe room." Amelia said, looking away from the goblin's eyes as a sign of casualness or submission, Magnus didn't know. Again, shaking the goblin's forearm, he smiled. "Twenty-four.", the goblin's returning smile turning slightly more feral.

"You have made this goblin a few hundred galleons richer, for that, I thank you."

His nod an indication for him to continue, the goblin let go of his arm and turned to the table, indicating to an almost tome-looking binder.

"I thought you might enjoy some food and drink as we have a file for you to read. It cannot leave this room, understand? So, you have as much time as you need, but you cannot take actual pieces from that file, and its information is sealed in your head by opening it. Standard files. I shall return in an hour or so to check on you. You have the utmost trust of Director Ragnok, something few of wizard-kind can admit...don't waste it."

Watching the goblin exit the room, 'Peter' turned to Amelia.

"Well...this is an interesting day after all. Shall we?" Motioning to the refreshments.

The kids already eating and talking amiably between themselves, the adults loaded some food onto their plates and dragged the tome closer. A smile gracing Magnus' face, he cancelled Harry's glamour charm, making Susan gasp.

"He said he was Harry Potter, but he couldn't show me his face! It is you!"

A full-blown laugh racking his body, Magnus flipped open the folder, instantly sobering at the sight of the Potter will. Amelia gaining her sense back first, asked him why he reacted like that.

A whisper escaped him, "I-I can't read his parents' will...I'm barely his guardian, let alone somebody with enough connection to him to read this." He carefully moved the will over to Amelia, only to have it moved back.

"I was there when they did the ceremonies. Harry was supposed to go to me, remember? Or at least, after the Longbottom's, Sirius, and James' parents. Read it, he won't mind."

Holding her eyes for a moment longer, he broke the seal to the copy of the will.

'We, both with sound mind and body, swear this as our final will. All previously written wills are from henceforth invalidated.'

Realising it was a transcript rather than a letter, he skipped ahead, mostly missing emotional speeches, words of love, money transfers, and property details.

'In regards to Harry losing a parent, all custody and materials shall be given to the other parent. In the event of loss of both of our lives, we want Harry placed with Alice and Frank Longbottom. If they are unavailable, Sirius Black, Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, Susan Bones, or Remus Lupin shall take custody of Harry, either in a manner they all see fit, or individually upon selection by an appointed ally. In the case of Remus, arrangements have been made with the bank to deal with his situation.'

Glancing up, he saw Amelia looking at the kids, clearly lost in thought. Harry would've been happy.

'Under _NO_ circumstances is Harry Potter to be placed with Lily Potter neé Evans' muggle family, the Dursleys. Failure to comply with this will weaken the will, allowing the situation to be resolved as Gringott's bank sees fit, in accordance with the allied ties forged between the Goblin's, and House Potter.'

A confused expression marring his face, he slid the will to Amelia, indicating the last line.

"So that explains how I got hired. But who the fuck placed him with in that hell-hole?"

A dark look crossing her face, she leaned back.

"Information for information, my dear 'Peter'." His alias barely forming in her smirking mouth.

"Fine then, if you even know, you will give me initials, and I shall answer any questions you might have."

Nodding, she promptly leaned forward and quietly stated, "One AD."

Eyes-widening, he blurted out, "Dumbledore?"

The same dark look reappearing, she elaborated.

"He was in the right place at the right time, as per usual. Took Harry before any of us even knew James had died. Now, my question. How old are you, and how did you end up working for Waverly of all places?"

His eyes gaining a hard look, Amelia not stirring in the slightest, he sighed.

"I'm almost 20 now." Her eyes widening, he continued, "I got into some bad business as a kid, had some _real_ bad accidental magic happen. I ran away, was found, nearly beaten to death, killed the men attacking me...and my first handler, Jimmy Warth, found me in a puddle of my own- and three-men's blood. Took me in for a while, saw my potential...started training a week after I turned 13. I only officially ended training barely six months ago."

Looking at Amelia, he saw her gob smacked face unchanging, her body frozen. Snapping his fingers in front of her eyes, she stirred.

"H-how?"

"I'm a fighter...and I wasn't ever going down without taking somebody with me. Warth recognized it instantly, realizing later that I had an above average core, and proposed a new life to me...one where I was the one hurting bad people, ridding Earth of scum...it's been 7 years now, and I still haven't regretted a single trigger pull, slash, stab, spell, curse, jinx, or any real choices."

Slumping slightly in her chair, Amelia processed his story, uttering a while later.

"You mind me asking your score on the tests?"

Smiling, he sat back himself, enjoying a mug of goblin mead.

"Above 80 for most of my subjects. If I rememeber correctly, I apparently 'have issues with insubordination, patience, and a record of excessive violence', and it was 'recommended that I am not enrolled in any agency programs, at this time'." A chuckle following his statement.

"Fuckin' proved 'em all wrong, though. Twenty-Nine successful missions, four failures. A better ratio than even some of the best veterans from Waverly."

Shaking her head, Amelia grabbed a glass of what she ascertained was a wine.

"Remind me to never repeat what happened in the hall earlier. Harry's obviously safe with you, and I care too much for Susan to die now."

A laugh meeting her statement, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're the only external ally I have here, which means you fall under my protection, which means you fall under Waverly's protection services. Don't worry, you're gonna be fine."

A comfortable silence descending between them, Susan and Harry happily rattling along to each other, he took another sip from his drink before turning to Amelia.

"Shall we go through this file? I would like to go have a shower and a nap."

A smile and nod made him move the file to between them.

"Section 1, Enemies...Okay they gave us an orientation file...nice!"

* * *

 **[Time undisclosed]**

Pacing his office, Albus Dumbledore awaited word concerning the attack in Diagon Alley, being told the battle was over giving him an excuse to not floo through. Green fires spilling from the floo, he turned to see Kingsley stepping through.

"Ah, Kingsley my dear boy, Lemon Bitter?" Receiving the traditional shake of the head, Albus continued, "What news do you come bearing?"

Both of them sitting down, Kingsley sighed.

"We lost 41 civilians, having another 97 in St. Mungo's. We also found 81 Death Eater bodies littering the grounds. A lot of the civilians seemed to have fought back, accompanied by goblin guards. The most interesting part though, is Diagon itself...we recovered several bodies with signs of a professional having intervened. Large gunshot wounds, some bodies had stab marks, and the rest found dead had the same magical signature on their wounds, scrambled."

Sagging in his seat at the loss of life, he shot up at the mention of a professional.

"Professional? How so?"

Coughing, Kingsley continued, "Clear stabbing marks, no struggle. Gunshots were lined up to decimate enemies, and maim those behind them, not a single civilian hit either. And the spells just reeked of controlled power...a very lucid pattern. We have reason to believe this was one man, although with no witnesses coming forward yet, and the alley still under lockdown, nothing is proven yet."

Nodding, Albus leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers.

"Do you believe it to be the same man from Harry's abduction?"

"I believe it could very well be. The magical signatures are consistent with the patterns used to scramble them. If it is, however, I believe Harry to be safer than he has been in years."

Albus frowning at the statement, he continued undeterred, "Sir, the kills were excellent. We suspect he killed the 22 we've counted so far in under 10 minutes...a feat almost impossible for most Hit Aurors. We shouldn't kick the hornet's nest on this one, sir. We don't have shields that can stop bullets that large." Unfortunately, leaving out evidence found of a Portkey, and reports of a dark figure fleeing towards the bank, melting into the goblin ranks present.

Closing his eyes, he thanked Kingsley and bade him leave.

Who was this man? How could he scare Kinglsey Shacklebolt, a pillar for Gryffindor bravery, so easily?

Albus dared himself to find out. This was his game, and he would be damned if he lost.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry that this one took a while, had to rewrite a decent portion of it, and was also out of town for a couple of days. I hope you enjoyed it. Ch. 8 is on its way, soon. Same story as always, reviews and PM's of all sorts welcomed.**

 **Have a good one.**


	8. The Reports

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

 **[Approx. 3 hours after 'briefing' start]**

Banker Bonegrind had introduced Magnus to both the goblin that had reportedly saved him, and the commander he had met at the door.

Expressing his ability to having been in control of the situation, which received nothing more than snorts, he thanked the goblin. Acknowledging his debt, the goblin left. The commander had rounded on him, asking for his miraculous story of earning the trust of the Clans.

"Commander, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have no one single heroic story. I earned it through my work with and for Waverly Company."

Recognition sparking in the goblin's eyes, he gave Magnus a gnarled grin.

"So, it is true. Agent Corvus has visited us at Gringott's."

His confused expression asking the question for him, the commander continued, "That file you received is an act of kindness on Gringotts' side. Every warrior goblin commander worth his weight in rubies knows those files inside out...for security purposes. Our versions just have most of Waverly's agents added, and many other rivals."

"You have files on Waverly's agents? They know about this?"

"Of course they do boy. It is an act of friendship on their side. Effective relationships often times involve presenting a weakness to others. And they only give us general abilities, and code names. They keep your actual info behind some very tight walls."

Both grinning, they shook forearms before the commander left, Magnus returning to the lobby to meet up with the trio.

On their way to the door, their journey was interrupted by Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks, them greeting them almost overly enthusiastically, before practically stealing the Bones.

Bidding the Bones' farewell, Magnus and Harry left the bank. Intent on returning home as quickly as they possibly could. Wizards and witches frantically scurried about, still cleaning and repairing damages. They passed by multiple aurors, still taking statements and witness accounts.

Nearing the entrance, they were stopped by a tall, dark man, his voice deep.

"Excuse me, sir. Were you around during the attack?"

"No, sir. We were in Gringotts when they locked it down. We luckily missed everything."

Harry's expression morphing into one of deep thought, he looked up at Magnus and asked, "But you said you wanted to get out before the locked down? And you were gone for a little while."

The man looking from Harry to him, he smiled. "He's right, I did try to leave, to help defend. After making sure he," Gesturing to Harry, "was safe, I went for the doors, some goblins stopped me and the doors were sealed. I elected to stay in the lobby to help defend if it was breached."

The man, Kingsley Shacklebolt if he remembered correctly, seemed as though he would accept the ruse, before seemingly changing his mind.

"Was your son placed at a different location than the lobby?"

Harry smiled up at Kingsley, "I was in a safe room!"

Kingsley's eyebrows rose slightly, before turning back to Magnus, "A safe room? Rare for goblins to allow wizarding kind into one of their safe rooms...Okay then, thank you sir. If I may ask, what is your name?"

Smiling as charmingly as he could, Magnus replied, "Burnwood, Peter Burnwood."

Noting it down onto his notepad, Kingsley nodded at them and walked away.

Motioning for Harry to continue, they left the bloodied, decimated alley behind them.

* * *

 **[Simultaneous]**

Walking with the now known 'Corvus' and Harry, Amelia saw Narcissa and Andromeda walking towards her.

"Hello, Amelia, Susan, gentlemen. Do excuse us, but we'll be stealing her for a while."

Receiving a smiling nod from the man walking with her, Narcissa and Andromeda bade the man and boy goodbyes as they dragged Amelia and Susan aside.

"Susan, Nymphadora is over there." Motioning towards the infamous metamorphmagus, Susan quickly vacated the area.

"Amy, what the hell happened? 'Cissa and I just spotted you in the line, and were about to come over when we saw a goblin walking over, and Susan following him. Before you left, we called after you, but we couldn't reach you before the lock down closed the doors."

Taking a deep breath, Amelia was about to answer when she saw a glint in Narcissa's eyes.

"What's going on up there 'Cissa? I know that look."

"Well...I followed your eyes and saw that man practically running to a teller, before following him into the side halls...And a while later, when you went for the door, I saw a dark figure exiting. Amelia, was that Harry's kidnapper?"

A small smile playing on her face, she simply answered with a nod, both of the other's mouths hanging open.

"But...but he walked out so casually...was that boy Harry?"

"Yes, but I don't think we need to worry about him going on a rampage. He's so young...but his heart's in the right place. I'll fill you guys in soon, just keep an eye out for my letters. I've got some serious damned paperwork I need to get to."

Hugging them in turn, she was about to motion Susan closer, when she had a thought.

"It's been almost three hours since shit hit the fan...what are you guys still doing here?"

Looking ashamed in turn, Andromeda answered her, "We were kind of waiting for you...to get the 'scoop', as it were."

A laugh bellowing from Amelia, she nearly doubled over laughing, Andromeda and Narcissa looking on, very confused.

"O-of course you wanted the 'scoop,' a bunch of gossips you lot."

Rectifying her state, she continued, "Remember, watch for my letter."

Motioning to Susan, they walked out of the door, leaving two disappointed witches behind.

* * *

 **[Approx. 4 days later]**

Looking up from the files she was handed, Amelia examined all those in attendance of the meeting.

Minister Fudge, his pet toad Umbridge, Dumbledore, Head Rufus Scrimgeour, multiple Auror Captains, and liaisons from Gringotts and Diagon Alley. All in all, it was a pretty packed meeting room, barely any seats open.

Minister Fudge clearing his throat, trying and failing in his attempt to seem in control of the room, he stood up to address the group.

"Witches and wizards, we have recently experienced an attack on Diagon Alley. We are here today to ascertain which parties are involved, and prosecute them accordingly."

The now reinstated auror Alastor Moody, courtesy of Amelia Bones playing Scrimgeour for a fool, burst out with, "I say proper prosecution would be to string 'em up and use them for unforgivable practice!"

Turning to Moody, Scrimgeour said, "Auror Moody, you have been reinstated to help us combat this new threat, not commit war crimes."

Piping up again, he replied, "There won't be another war if we stomp this problem right away."

A Captain raising his voice, "This isn't a new threat either. All reports suggest these are Death Eaters."

The room quieting at this statement, Dumbledore took the chance to stand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are simply facing a group of misguided individuals. It should be our responsibility to safely capture these lost souls and show them the error of their ways."

A snort from Alastor was followed by, "If showing them the error of their ways is with a Crucio, we might win again."

"Now, Alastor, these young people do not know what they are doi-"

Dumbledore was suddenly cut off by a very aggravated Amelia Bones' "Silence!"

The whispers petering out, she straightened in her chair, before taking command of the situation.

"We are here today to compile a file, and start taking action as soon as we can. We will be starting with an introductory report compiled from witnesses, memories, and by Gringotts themselves." The Gringotts liaisons straightening in their chairs, smiles plastered on hastily.

"Auror Captain Kingsley Shacklebolt will be reading this report, so if you would please." Motioning to Shacklebolt to continue, he cleared his throat.

"At approximately thirteen-hundred-hours, an estimated amount of 150 apparations were detected across almost every single entry point of Diagon Alley. Ten minutes afterwards a powerful anti-apparation ward was erected, denying entry into and out of Diagon Alley. The forces apparent commanders were seen communicating to multiple groups close to the entrances. Said groups splitting off after their dismissal, quickly overtaking the close-lying areas, seemingly attacking any and all shops and civilians in their path."

Taking a drink of water, Shacklebolt continued.

"There were multiple minor skirmishes between civilians and the enemy forces, them being overpowered relatively quickly. After showing aggressive actions both close to and towards Gringotts Bank, the goblin ranks mobilised towards the outlying streets, defending the area from the intruders. The fighting continued for an estimated 12 minutes, at which time our auror forces were able to break the anti-apparation ward, gaining entry into the alley. They were met by extremely aggressive forces in some cases, there were surrenders in others, and corpses in the rest. The remaining enemy forces were dispersed 7 minutes after contact. Control of the Alley was confirmed 3 minutes after."

Placing the parchment down, he took another drink of water. Another Captain asking the obvious, "What were the numbers?"

Sighing, Amelia motioned to the Captain sitting near her to continue. His swallow leading a cough.

"There are currently an estimated 52 civilian losses and 84 still in St. Mungo's. 89 Death Eater bodies found, no survivors found amongst them. A further 3 aurors were lost, with 9 in St. Mungo's."

A sombre atmosphere falling on the room, none dared speak.

A Captain taking the silence as a chance to speak, he raised his voice slightly.

"What are the reports concerning the figure that slaughtered the enemy in Diagon itself?"

This seemed to garner much more attention than expected, it would seem, as all heads turned to him, causing him to gulp and slightly sink into his seat.

"I, myself, would like to know more about this figure." Dumbledore's words taking the attention off the now-nervous captain.

Straightening up, Amelia pulled some parchment closer, detailing everything the Ministry currently knew about her latest 'ally'...it wasn't much.

"Subject is described as approximately six-foot-three, or one-point-nine meters. Build best described as larger than average, little if any fat. Effective with melee weapons, specifically a knife described as 'A blade of 7 inches, engraved, and having a dull shine.' We suspect it to be goblin made. The suspect is also described to be exceptional in his use of a muggle firearm, a muggle-born describing it as, and I quote, 'A Webley Mark 6. Most likely using a point-four-five-five cartridge.' Bodies found with gunshot wounds, indicated that the revolver could possibly have enchantments on it. Finally, the suspect was said to be exceptional with his magic, being able to disable his opponents with little to no effort."

Every person in the room seemed to be digesting the information, before Fudge piped up.

"We need to capture this dark wizard! The use of a muggle firearm against wizards is abhorrent! He murdered pure-blooded wizards for no reason!"

Amelia had had enough of Fudge's bickering for a lifetime, and stood up.

"Minister, with all due respect, there is no way of knowing who this wizard is. As of right now, he is seen as a neutral party. No civilians were reported killed or even hurt by him, only the attacking group was targeted."

"But almost all of his reported murders were purebloods!"

Scrimgeour's voice cutting into the rising chatter in the room. "Purebloods killing civilians! Do **not** try to redeem these people Fudge, you shall only be humiliating yourself." His interception gratefully accepted by Amelia, ready to curse the little turd.

A Captain standing up, causing the room to go quiet once more, raised his voice.

"But what of the suspect reportedly going into and coming out of Gringotts?"

One of the three goblin liaisons standing up, he deftly answered.

"We do not know who this figure is, we do however respect his parent company, and thus allowed him entrance into Gringotts."

Fudge's face turning more purple by the second, he practically screamed out, "So who is this man's parent company? We can force them to hand him over and try him as we wish!"

The liaison's face morphing into a feral grin, he uttered two words that chilled the spine of almost everybody sitting there.

"Waverly Company."

Fudge's face almost becoming translucent, he stood up and left the room, faster than any attending had expected him to be able to move.

The rest of the meeting continued as per usual. Guard posts being assigned, suspects being singled out for investigation, and emergency plans worked on.

As the meeting drew to a close an hour later, the only thought on everybody's minds were simply, 'How do we handle the new player?'

* * *

 **[27 hours after meeting]**

Amelia Bones was busy packing up from another day of work, when a tawny owl flew in and dropped a letter on her desk, before looking at her, barking, and flying away again.

Confused, she scanned he letter for any spells, finding only a Confidentiality charm. She recognized the 'P. B.' on the front, and hungrily tore into the envelope.

' _Director Amelia Bones,_

 _I'm sure you were not expecting this, but I've written to you asking for a favour._

 _I need a method to allow James to socialise with those around his age. There seems to be a slight disconnect between us, where it concerns being a 'friend'._

 _In exchange for this, I owe you any favour you desire, if it is within my power to deliver it._

 _I await a reply at your earliest convenience._

 _Regards,_

 _P. B.'_

A smile playing on her face, she set the letter down, intent on writing a reply.

She was just handed the means to stopping this war before it even turned into one.

Plus, Susan seemed to like Harry well enough, maybe she should talk to her first.

* * *

 **[4 hours later]**

That evening, several people received letters from one Amelia Bones, asking for correspondence on when they were able to meet up again.

Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks, Eveline Greengrass, amongst a few others were especially quick in answering. The bulk of them awaiting a date from her, some giving specific dates, others unable to come.

Britain's wizarding community was going to be very volatile within the next year or two, and Amelia was ready to guide it towards a better future.

Harry was powerful, carried a lot of political weight, and now had a guardian who could raise him to fulfil everything ever expected of him...that made him dangerous. The man caring for him not improving that in the slightest.

The 'Dark' also seemed too scared now to even lash out after their defeat...cowards.

* * *

 **[Time Undisclosed]**

"M'lord, we have no idea how we were overpowered so quickly! There was a dark figure in Diagon itself that killed so many of us so quickly that we could-"

His words cut off by Lucius Malfoy's Crucio, he simply lied on the floor wailing and shaking.

Lifting his spell, Lucius stood over the downed man.

"Do not give me excuses, MacNair! We had a plan set in stone! It would have worked, had your soldiers been competent enough. This was a simple task, yet you still failed."

"N-No, m'lord. I have information...t-the man from Diagon..he works f-for Waverly!"

About to cast another curse, Lucius stopped halfway, interested.

"Waverly? How interesting. Go MacNair, find me this man, and bring him to me. We shall teach him to kill ours. Take this," placing a chain with a ring on it in the man's slightly outstretched hand, "It is a portkey, and will bring him to this room. Do not fail me this time, it shall be your last."

The man's trembling hand tucking the chain into his pocket, he nodded shakily before barely trundling away from Malfoy. He would get this man, and kill Lucius. His position wasn't grovelling at this poor excuse of a pure-blood's shoes. When his master returned, he would be by his side.

Apparating to Diagon Alley and moving down Knockturn, he had a plan forming in his head. His time was now.

* * *

 **A/N: So there we go, another chapter done. Very happy with how it's unfolding so far myself. Ch.9 is nearing completion, might be up this weekend.**

 **As always, All PM's and reviews welcome.**

 **Have a good one.**


	9. The Soirée

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 9**

* * *

 **[7:56pm** **, 2 weeks after attack on Diagon Alley]**

"Susan, what are you doing here?" Amelia Bones was about to rejoin the small party she had arranged, planning on ensuring all her refreshments were ready, anticipation high for the arrival of the rest of her guests.

"Just getting some more punch Aunt Amelia."

"Don't worry honey, the elves are doing all they can." Placing a hand on Susan's shoulder as she shuffled past, into the hall.

She had arranged this, intent on introducing 'James Miller' and his godfather, 'Peter Burnwood', to the rest of the magical community...her connections to it in anyway. Thinking back, she wasn't sure if they would even show up, 'Peter' having been sceptical about bringing Harry under extreme public scrutiny, let alone having him do it under an active alias.

As 8 o' clock neared, the time she had arranged for them to arrive, she reviewed those attending in the dining hall of Bones Manor. Narcissa was in the process of berating her son, likely over something the brat said...too much like his father already. Susan was helping Nymphadora Tonks place some glasses down as Andromeda beckoned her over.

The Greengrass family was mingling with many of the other Neutral families...or the parts of families that were neutral. The Carrows, lacking their daughters, were talking with Augusta Longbottom; her grandson, Neville, standing behind her, eyes surveying everything around him with wide eyes.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was having a discrete discussion with Saul Croaker, one of the newest Unspeakables, and Alastor Moody. The MacMillans seemed to be having a rather jovial discussion with the Abbots, their daughter most likely on the prowl for Susan.

She was still waiting for the last few guests when she heard a roar outside, before there was a knock on the front doors shortly after.

Steeling herself, she walked to the front door, already knowing who it is. Grabbing the handle, she nearly ripped the door open, a side-effect of her nerves. She was allowing an extremely capable killer into her home after all.

Catching them busy transitioning into glamours, she noticed they looked...younger?

"Did you change your glamours?"

"Yes, I did. I looked too old to stay with a simple story, and I thought James might have an easier time with a slightly less altering glamour." A bottle of wine offered, she took it before glancing down to Harry. He was wearing new glasses, his hair seemed to be a bit longer and straighter now as James, and he was dressed perfectly for a slight-aristocratic look. Navy dress jacket and slacks complimenting his now dark blue eyes, a dark emerald shirt barely sticking out.

Nodding approvingly, she looked Magnus up and down, dragonhide dress boots leading to black dress trousers, leading to a dark red shirt, covered by a black dress jacket. The final touch a cape over his shoulders, the same shade as his shirt. Reaching his face, she noticed the shit-eating grin.

"You guys looks...acceptable I guess."

"Acceptable? Amelia, we look fantastic."

Smile still in place, Magnus opened the left side of his jacket, motioning to his arm pit.

Glancing at where he was motioning, she looked at him, confused.

"Left my revolver at home...as a show of trust."

Understanding the weight of the gesture, her eyebrows lifted up, him leaning in.

"And between you and me, that was more so that I don't kill anybody that irritates me."

Smacking him in the chest, she smirked, motioning them inside.

"Welcome, young sirs, to The Bones Manor. The dining hall is straight down this hallway," Motioning to her left,"Bathrooms are the second door on the left; ask an elf if you get lost. Now come, I have people I want you to meet, 'James'."

Said boy smiling up at Amelia, before asking, "Are they my age?"

An almost hopeful glimmer in his voice, Amelia smiled and replied simply, "Most of them."

Looking at the young boy himself, Magnus walked forward, reaching out to open the door. Suddenly stopping, causing Amelia to look at him suspiciously, she gasped as she saw his glamour melting away. Short, brown hair turning to long, slightly curly black hair. His suit seemed to stay the same, if not slightly stretched out at Magnus' larger build, compared to 'Peter'.

Deep brown eyes met hers and she realised she was looking into the eyes of Corvus himself. High, sharp cheeks leading down into a sharp jaw. A sharp nose, showing obvious signs of being broken at least once before, full lips, and sharp eye brows...he looked like a predator.

Seeing his mouth move, she snapped herself out of her stupor. "Pardon?"

"I asked why you couldn't inform me of your glamour wards...I don't know if I have any glamour trinkets on me, and I can't keep glamour's going with a ward eating away at my core."

Mulling it over, she expressed her thoughts out loud, "Why not introduce yourself like this?"

A frown meeting her statement, he patted his pockets as he motioned to Harry, "And what of him?"

Said boy looking down at his feet, "I look like me again?"

Amelia seemed to realise why there was an issue. "You don't want anybody knowing what you look like..."

"Of course not. You never know when you need to blend in with the public without the use of magic. Ah-ha!" Pulling out two pendants, he quickly slid on over Harry's head. "Don't tell or show anybody this necklace, okay Harry?" Slipping it under said child's shirt.

An enthusiastic nod meeting this, he slipped the other one over his head and pulled his wand out. A tap on Harry's forehead had his glamour reappearing from the tip of Magnus' wand. Repeating this on himself, Magnus stowed his wand and turned back to her, a smile plastered on his face.

"Ready?"

Her nod being his reply, he reached out and pushed the door open.

At the motion of the door opening, most of the hall fell silent, the rest following soon after. All attention was now on them, making both males shuffle uncomfortably.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present Peter Burnwood, and his godson, James Miller."

A discreet wave of hands and hello's meeting their introduction, Amelia was quick to place a tumbler in Magnus' hand, showing Harry towards the gathered children.

The attention now receding off them, Magnus allowed Harry leave, before following Amelia Towards the nearest gathered group of adults...a group of attractive, middle-aged witches. Magnus cursed his luck, steeling himself for the assured onslaught of questions.

Stopping at the group, Amelia was quick to make introductions.

"Peter, this is Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa Malfoy, Catherine Abbot, Augusta Longbottom, Eveline Greengrass, Eleanor Carrow, and Olivia MacMillan."

Shaking each offered hand in turn, he tried to remember their files. They were all very capable witches. Narcissa's husband was a known DE, however her presence at this party deemed her a lesser-threat. Longbottom had an account with Waverly, hiring the best mind-healers they could find. Greengrass was notoriously neutral. Carrow had some bad blood, Eleanor's sister- and brother-in-law. The rest were...normal he dared say.

Wondering where the third Black sister was currently, he barely listened to Narcissa's question.

"So, how did you end up caring for James? If you don't mind me asking."

Smiling, he turned to look at Harry, before putting his attention back on the conversation.

"His parents were unfortunately murdered during the last war. I didn't even know he was still alive until I got a letter from the goblins, stating that as his godfather I had to claim guardianship over him. So I did the most logical thing I could, I dropped everything and retrieved him as soon as I could. I was however distraught to find him placed with people his parents' will specifically stipulated he shouldn't be placed with."

The gathered witches were hypnotized, waiting with baited breath for him to continue. "What was the problem? I don't mean to pry." A light blush playing on Andromeda's cheeks, whether it was alcohol or embarrassment, Magnus didn't know.

Staring deep into the tumbler in his hands, Magnus thought back to the night he got Harry. How helpless and hopeful he looked. The ice cracking suddenly in his tumbler, he looked up, meeting Andromeda's eyes.

"Pieces of shit that abused him...It's been a project to get him healthy, but he seems to strive for greener pastures, so I'm sure this is barely a set-back to him."

The women's eyes growing and shrinking again as he spoke, Eleanor placed her hand on his arm.

"Well, I may not speak for all of us, Peter; but if you ever need help with James, you can contact me at any time." A chorus of approval meeting her statement, Magnus expressed his thanks.

Harry, however, had been having a great time. After reaching the table with the kids around, he introduced himself with barely a pause.

"Hi Susy!"

Susan looking up at Harry, she blushed slightly as she got up, hugging him.

"Hey Ha-James!"

Fearing his disapproval, she pulled back to see him smiling.

"Well, are you going to introduce me?"

Jumping at the mention of being a bad hostess, she quickly dragged him over to the other kids.

"James, this is Tonks, she doesn't like people using her real name."

Stretching a hand out, she grasped it, followed by a "Wotcher, James!"

"Do you mind me asking what your real name is?"

Glaring at him, she seemed to relent at the innocence on his face.

"Fine...but you better not tell other people, or mock me. It's Nymphadora."

"That's a cool name! My godfather would like that."

Seeming confused, she followed his pointed finger, and saw a man standing with her mom and her...clique. She seemed to consider him for a while before seeing his boots, her hair visibly turning redder.

"That's so cool! How do you do that? Can I do it?"

A bewildered look crossing her face, she realised he was referring to her abilities.

"I'm what's called a metamorphmagous; and you can maybe do it, but it's a rare gene, so don't get your hopes up." An enthralled look crossing Harry's face, she turned back to Magnus.

"He likes boots?" Harry nodded before answering.

"Yes, he only wears them. It seems like way too much effort to me."

Nodding, she turned her eyes back to the man, intrigued.

Looking at each other in concern, Susan dragged Harry towards the next group.

"Hannah, Hestia, Flora; this is James." An enthusiastic shake coming from Hannah, two slightly more graceful shakes coming from the Carrows.

"When are you starting Hogwarts? Are you 9 too? Which house do you think you'll be in?"

"Hannah! Calm down, I'm sure James isn't sure yet."

A small chuckle escaping Harry's lips, he took a deep breath before answering.

"In two years, yes; and I don't know anything more about Hogwarts than I'm going."

Four excited faces turning to him, Harry had the abject feeling he had just made a mistake.

An hour later had Magnus being introduced to all the men...or most of them, Croaker and Moody sitting in a corner speaking in hushed tones.

Taking her leave, Amelia headed towards Susan's table, hoping Harry had made more friends.

Kingsley Shacklebolt seemed to recognise Magnus near instantly.

"Excuse me, did we not meet at Diagon Alley? The day it was attacked?"

Hoping that he wasn't about to face another interrogation, Magnus calmly nodded.

"Uh, yes, that was me, sir."

"Don't bother with the 'sir' business here; you may look 'nary 21, but a friend of Amelia's is a friend of ours. Tell me, when did you move to Britain? I have no recollection of ever meeting you."

Swallowing at Shacklebolt's questions, "Lived here my whole life, I was just very...reclusive, being home-schooled and such."

A smile forming on Emile Greengrass' face, he slapped a hand onto Magnus' shoulder.

"Was nearly home-schooled myself, was able to dodge my old-man's paranoia and go to Hogwarts, one of the best choices I ever made. Are you letting James go to Hogwarts?"

A quick nod meeting his question, Magnus finished his drink, before replying "Yes, of course. Now if you gentleman would excuse me, I need another drink." A mumbled, chorus-like 'Yes' meeting this, he walked over to the refreshment table. About to pour for himself, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt his bottom pinched. Looking to his side, ready to curse, he looked into a head of bubblegum pink hair.

"Wotcher, Burnwood. I don't believe we've met yet." Stretching her hand out.

'Nymphadora Tonks, 5'6"/1.7m, 126lbs/57kg. Normally seen with bubblegum pink hair. Full-metamorph; only recorded full-metamorph in the past 50 years. Talented with charms, jinxes, and healing magic. Fighting style is composed primarily of dodging and misdirection. Treat with caution, identity theft is an easy possibility. Beautiful.'

"No, no I don't believe we have. Peter Burnwood." Taking her outstretched hand, he barely touched his lips to her knuckles, before looking up and seeing her hair rapidly shifting to a long, straight red; her eyes mimicking her hair's new colour.

Standing up, he took note of her outfit, slightly torn black jeans, black combat boots, a tie-dyed Weird Sisters shirt, and a dark leather jacket...possibly dragonhide.

"I like the Weird Sisters myself. You seen them live yet?"

A small nod preceding a muttered "No" answering his question, he started walking towards Harry before turning around mid-stride.

"Mail me sometime, and I'll see if I can steal you for a show." Winking, he turned around again, intent on asking Harry how he was feeling.

* * *

Seeing Magnus' movement, one Alastor Moody and one Saul Croaker stood up and as moved as inconspicuously as possible, questions mulling through their minds. They stopped a few metres behind Magnus, sure of their silence.

A nod and smile from 'Peter' and 'James' signalling their conversation's end, they stayed behind Magnus, moving towards the kitchen. Glancing around to ensure nobody had noticed them yet, the followed Magnus' departure into the kitchen, glancing at each other before quietly pulling out their wands.

Two strides later had them through the kitchen door, instantly met by a wand pressing against Croaker's ribs, and a knife resting against Moody's stomach. This seemed to surprise and piss off both men, as their wands were pointed straight to Magnus' head.

"Gentlemen...why are you following me? And pulling wands so easily? Come now, I thought you were trained."

The older men seemed cowed for a second, before Croaker grunted and asked, "And yourself? That wand can't be dodged here, and I'm sure you can react to any direction Moody moves. Very well trained for a man who's recently moved back into the public's attention."

Smiling, Magnus stowed his weapons, and stretched his hand out.

"Peter Burnwood. Pleased to meet you."

Again, glancing at each other, the men cautiously stowed their own wands. Alastor's hand meeting Magnus' first, a gruff mumble barely escaping his lips.

"Alastor Moody."

'6'2"/1.89m, 208lbs/94kgs. Left eye, piece of nose, and left leg lost in the First British Wizarding War. Eye replaced by highly advanced prosthetic eye, joint-venture by the MoM and Waverly; ability to see magic of various types, offers obvious weaknesses. Caution recommended, extremely adept fighter. Fighting style consists of shielding and misdirection, as caused by injuries.'

A mumbled "Saul Croaker" leaving the other man, he realised he was actually being honoured by the company of an unspeakable, one of the few people he couldn't review files of...great.

"A pleasure, gentlemen. Now, if you could please explain to me why you approached me with your wands drawn."

Looking slightly ashamed, Moody answered first, "We meant to interrogate you lad, I see that little trinket under your clothes."

Eyes widening, Magnus patted his chest, forgetting that Moody would have been able to see it.

"Why are you wearing a Glamour, lad? This is meant to be a friendly get-together...Glamour's don't instil trust in me, I can't speak for Croaker."

A nod meeting his statement, Croaker simply replied with "A strong glamour like that too...makes one wonder..."

"Paranoia is unfortunately not something that leaves one easily. What was your legendary phrase, Alastor? 'Constant vigilance', I believe?"

A laugh erupting from the man, he slapped a hand onto Croaker's shoulder.

"Alright lad, you win. If Amelia let you walk in here, I doubt you're here to do damage. If you don't mid me asking, where did you get your training? Your wand placement was better than most of the aurors I've had the displeasure to work with."

"Privately tutored and trained. I only stepped out to claim my godson."

Nodding their heads, Alastor coughed before continuing.

"Sharp looking wand you have there...mind telling us what your materials are?"

Feeling his wrist holster itch, he relented, not wanting to lie concerning something they can confirm at eye value.

"Blackthorn, 13-inches."

Both of their eyes growing slightly, Croaker cleared his throat, "That's a rather dark wand."

Nodding, Alastor interjected, "You mind telling us what your core is?"

A thought crossing his mind, he realised that White River Monster spine was probably not the answer they were expecting, and so went with an easy default.

"Unicorn Hair, freely given. And the wand chooses the wizard, remember that."

About to exit the kitchen between the men, they stood closer together, blocking his exit.

"One last question, lad. You didn't, by any chance, see a cloaked figure with an obscured face at Gringotts; the day the alley was attacked?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, I was more focused on keeping those around me safe."

A nod from each man in turn, they gave way, Alastor calling after Magnus just before he opened the door.

"You better keep that lad safe. He's of more importance than you might think."

The words making him freeze in place, he turned around with as menacing look on his face as he could muster.

"Are you threatening my charge?"

A quick shake of his head, Alastor stepped back, lifting his hands up.

"No, no. I'm just saying, Peter...or would you prefer 'Corvus'?" A shit-eating grin adorning his mangled face.

Closing the gap between them in barely the blink of an eye, Magnus had his wand pressed harshly into Alastor's neck; Croaker's wand pushing into his side.

"You reveal anything to anybody, and not even Dumbledore himself will be able to locate your body. Understand?"

The man's prosthetic eye spinning around frantically, his original one panicked, he nodded quickly.

Standing back, he stowed his wand once more.

"Gentlemen...enjoy your evening."

Spinning around on his heel, Magnus pushed through the kitchen doors, leaving a shocked pair of wizards behind.

* * *

Two hours later had Magnus levitating Harry out the door and into his car, heading back inside to greet those still around.

Spotting the last participants of the party in a group, he approached them, intent on thanking them for the delightful evening.

Amelia shot to her feet, seeing him approaching.

"On your way out, Peter?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you very much for the evening, I believe James enjoyed himself quite a bit more than I had anticipated."

Greeting the rest of the group; Narcissa, Andromeda and Nymphadora, Eveline and Emile Greengrass, Catherine Abbot, and Olivia and Ernie MacMillan Sr., he headed back towards the door, followed closely by Amelia.

"Thank you for coming. I hope...'James' made some friends. I hope 'Peter' maybe made some too." her lips drawn into a smirk. "It seems 'Peter' has at least one more fan."

Noticing the confusion written on his face, she sighed lightly, "Nymphadora, Corvus."

His face becoming a dark shade of red, he simply nodded, before bowing down and kissing Amelia's knuckles again.

"It is I who should be thanking you. I think Harry may have made at least two more friends in Hannah and Neville...I'm sorry about Moody and Croaker's early departures, it may have partly been my fault."

A small laugh escaping her, she nodded.

"I assume Alastor mentioned 'Corvus' to you?" A nod answering her, she sighed. "I'll ensure he doesn't let anything slip. He's as much against The Dark Lord as anybody I know."

Magnus bade her farewell, before starting his car and heading for the gate.

He found himself actually appreciating the night. If nothing else, he made Harry at least a bit happier...that's something he could live for.

* * *

 **A/N: A chapter consisting of one large scene was new to me, so I guess this counts as a writing exercise now. Next chapter might have contextual expansion on multiple fronts, so expect a bit of an info dump, hopefully written to an entertaining level.**

 **Once more, all reviews and PMs are accepted.**

 **Have a good one!**


	10. The Challenge

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 10**

* * *

 **[One week later]**

"I DON'T CARE WHAT THE REQUESTS WERE, I WANT THAT CHILD OFF THIS CONTRACT!"

The almost thunderous bellow causing spittle to land on Handler Gregory M. Rawlings' face, forcing a sigh to escape his lips, before he wiped it off.

Handler Bryan Croxley was an imposing man. Pale skin stretched over almost too-sharp features, grey eyes in sunken sockets; short, thinning hair slicked back. Croxley also had a vivid temper and narcissistic tendencies, both of which were rearing their head in Rawlings' face.

Croxley seemed to have not been overly happy with Magnus, a talented but overall new agent, handling a contract as sensitive as the Potter's. And now he was venting his absolute despair to Rawlings' decision to place Magnus on said contract.

"I do not care what you do or do not want Croxley. Corvus was the ideal candidate, and the contract was on my table." His temper flaring, "You know damn fucking well it was completely my decision to make. Don't try to escalate this."

Sizing Rawlings up, Croxley walked closer, standing at his full height.

"He is a rookie with a temper and attitude. I have several agents on standby just for this contract, agents much more qualified to protect the objective. Would you not rather have the child under guaranteed protection?"

Nostrils flaring, Rawlings slammed his hands into the table and raised himself up, nearly looking down at the lanky man. His eyes bore into Croxley's, the intense gaze making the man shift uncomfortably.

"Corvus. Is. Perfect. My word on this is final, and will not be challenged."

A smile nearly splitting Croxley's face, he snorted.

"Comfortable enough to prove your agent's worth?"

Snorting himself, Rawlings looked at the door.

"He doesn't need to prove anything Croxley. The kid's better than any of us were at that age."

A retort on his lips, Croxley's reply was interrupted by a knock on the door, Rawlings taking his seat again. Glancing at Rawlings in confusion, Croxley looked back to the door.

Clearing his throat, Rawlings called out for the newcomer to enter, a frown forming on Croxley's face as he recognised his interrupter.

"Well I'll be, I thought I smelt a bag of shite here somewhere. Mr. Rawlings." A respectful nod from Magnus had said man smiling. "...Croxley." The word comparatively falling out of Magnus' mouth, making the aforementioned frown even more.

"Agent...Corvus. How nice of you to join us..."

"Please, the pleasure's all mine. You trying to steal somebody else's job again?"

Snorting in anger, Croxley rounded on Magnus, his full height not much of a factor against the slightly taller, young man.

"Well since you and your thrice damned handler are so cock-sure of your abilities, I challenge you to a duel."

Magnus' face morphing into a frown, he looked past Croxley to Rawlings.

"What'd I miss?"

Rubbing his temples, Rawlings sighed.

"He believes you're not experienced, or powerful enough, to handle the Potter contract, referring to the Diagon Alley incident; where you did leave your charge in trusted protection."

Quirking an eyebrow, he focused on Croxley. "So what's your goal?"

"I want the Potter contract for one of my own agents...a more capable guardian."

Raising the other, he looked towards Rawlings, the question written in his eyes. Rawlings' answer back was as eloquent as Magnus could have hoped, a simple shrug of the shoulders. The choice was his apparently.

"If I win, your team pays the entirety of my contract as a bonus. And I get to visit your armoury for a shopping trip." Looking deep in thought, he focused back on Croxley. " Your conditions?"

An obvious conflict happening in Croxley's mind, he seemed to relent.

"I accept your terms of victory. You'll be facing an agent of my choosing. The London Duelling Arena, under ideal conditions. One week from now."

Holding Croxley's eyes, he furrowed his brow," Terms of defeat?"

A grin forming on Croxley's face, he spoke with near glee, "Near death. I just want you humiliated, not killed; eventually I'll bring you to my team, and I'll build you up again, just how I want you."

Shaking his head, Magnus had a demeaning look on his face.

"I've seen your team's reports...Really not a sheet to brag about."

Seemingly having enough, Croxley stepped closer to Magnus, "Do you accept, boy?"

His features hardening at Croxley's approach, he just nodded, his wand in his concealed right hand.

"Don't call me a fucking boy...I agree."

A grin on his face once more, Croxley turned to Rawlings, Magnus nearly taking the chance to pop his skull.

"Adieu, old friend. I have an agent to prepare for the Potter contract." Turning to Magnus with the same grin, he slapped the man on the shoulder. "Good luck to you boy, you'll surely need it."

Fire burning in his stomach, he remembered who was on Croxley's team. Flipping the bird at the closed door, he sunk into a chair in front of Rawlings' desk.

"I forgot...Merlin's nutsack I forgot."

"What'd you forget lad?"

His hands on his face, an expression of terror on it, Rawlings couldn't help but smile.

"Out with it man!"

"Croxley has Artemis, Chronos, and Avarice."

Laughing, Rawlings was barely able to form a coherent sentence, "Oh my lord lad!" Wiping tears from his eyes, his Irish accent coming to the fore, "Ye'd be able to feck two of 'em at least!"

Scowling at the man, Magnus pulled out a small pamphlet, enlarging it to a folder of an inch width.

"You needn't worry about Chronos...Lad's strong, but he's not fast or magically powerful enough to take you. Avarice...She might be a bit of a pain. Artemis was close to your scores last I checked, she might be your actual problem."

Releasing a groan, Magnus leaned back, "If he was serious about a better guardian, then Chronos and Avarice are out. Artemis, again, wins there."

A smile on Rawling's face had Magnus raising a brow.

"I can't imagine Harry would enjoy the company of an excessively large man, or a harlot, all that much."

Smiling back, Magnus cleared his throat and straightened in his chair.

"Alright, sir. The second 'Potter Project' report." Motioning to the folder he had placed in front of his handler.

"He's improving, immensely. With the multitude of potions regiments he's gone through, I'd hope so. He's gaining muscle mass relatively quickly, his body seemingly favouring an athletic build. His magic core is flexing perfectly healthily at the moment, his bindings are growing nicely, already preparing to dissolve it would seem. He's learning like a sponge, absorbing everything I give him to an almost obsessive degree. I'm pretty sure he's got a photogenic memory, if his answers and explanations are any indication; sharp as a tack when it comes to details."

Having silently stood up during Magnus' review, Rawlings poured them a round of Ogden's Finest; a grateful grunt acknowledging the tumbler he placed in front of Magnus.

"I've got some annotated diagrams and scans too, along with the memories you requested of his first scan and most recent scan."

Looking up at his silent handler, Magnus noticed his distracted demeanour.

A quick "Sir?" stirring Rawlings from his thoughts, he sighed and sat back in his chair.

"I'll review these later...don't worry. What's your plan with Croxley? Lad, he's not number one on the board for nothing."

Sitting back himself, tumbler in hand, Magnus pondered the question for a moment.

"I know most of his agent's files backwards by now, and they all have weaknesses I can cover. And even if I do lose, it's up to Harry on what happens to his Guardian. And who replaces that spot if he does replace me."

"And you're sure he won't want you replaced?"

A deep sigh escaping him, Magnus's brow deeply furrowing again, he answered.

"I don't know. I've been trying as much as I can, taking the kid to socials and outside often...thanks for those glamour trinkets by the way, worked like a charm at Gringotts. I've been feeding him often, making sure he's properly dressed, and we're now also working on his fitness and magical strength. I think he likes me, but maybe he just likes the idea of having a caring guardian. He might not like anybody from Croxley's group of turds, but he might like somebody from Gaia's team more; I doubt Croxley won't at least offer Harry other options."

"So you're afraid he decides you're not useful anymore?"

A small smile pulling at his lips, Magnus answered, "Afraid isn't the right word. No, I feel like he might choose somebody horrid. I don't fear losing him, I fear him losing his potential with somebody that would stifle it; and him not understanding how to get rid of them."

A smile now on Rawlings' face, he stood up.

"Well then lad, let's get you training. You might have had much better scores than most of Croxley's team, but that doesn't mean you can be cocky. What'd I always say?"

Playfully sighing, Magnus stood up, "Being humble is better than being dead."

Walking around his table, Rawlings slapped a hand onto Magnus' shoulder, "Fuckin' right you are lad! Let's move, I've got a training room to book for you."

Moving towards the door, Rawlings stopped again.

"Y'know, you've still got that shit-eater Yaxley in a cell. Any ideas of what to do with him?"

Turning back, Magnus smiled, "I'm letting him simmer right now, I'll dish him up after all of this duel shite is over."

* * *

 **[Four days later]**

If asked how he felt about magic, Harry Potter would most likely answer with a loud "Wicked!", as he was enjoying the lightshow of his Guardian going through training drills. His eyes widening slightly with every successive blast of colour whipping at the darkness in the dimly-lit room.

Reds following yellows, blue lines following purple...lasers! With every spell seen, Harry attempted to match it with a spell in one of the books Magnus had bought him, barely able to keep up with the constant onslaught of colours filling the room.

He had never been as excited to learn magic as he was right now. Today he was going to learn how to do some magic! It's not as if he hadn't worked for it either, having reviewed Wandlore and Applied Practical Magic theories at length, mostly at Magnus' constant behest. Magnus had seemed very proud of Harry's report concerning wands; Magnus' wands to be specific.

Magnus had recently gifted Harry with his own wand, a training wand of Larch and Unicorn tail hair core. The springy nine-inch wand had elicited more excitement than Magnus had expected, Harry throwing himself into his self-studies; the promise of being allowed to try magic early being enough of an incentive to fuel him for two weeks.

Returned from his thoughts by a call from Magnus, he quickly made his way over, books forgotten; wand tightly clutched in his hands. Reaching Magnus, he released a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Crouching down, Magnus ruffled Harry's hair, breathing deeply as sweat dripped off his brow.

"You ready, buddy? Remember, the words and movement are only used to focus yourself, intent is what truly matters. Feel your magic reaching out to the wand, focus on the feeling of magic connecting with your wand. There's a dummy 10 meters ahead of you, take your time, breath calmly."

Taking a deep breath, Harry levelled the wand at the dummy, feeling a warmth flowing up from his middle section and into his arm. He repeated Magnus' advice to himself. 'Focus on the feeling. Intent is important.' The chant pounding in his head, he took a deep breath.

Flicking his wand, Harry exclaimed loudly, "Stupefy!" A red bolt of magic grazing past the dummy.

Dumbstruck, he barely noticed Magnus clapping behind him, turning on his heel to find Magnus smiling widely.

"Well done! Holy crap, that was impressive. You not only actually performed the spell, you practically hit the dummy. We've gotta work a bit on your stance and movement for now, but that was solid."

Walking forward, he crouched next to Harry, "Now, do that again as many times as you can, alright? It'll help your magical core grow." Enthusiastic nodding meeting this, he stood up and started making his way over to their water.

"Magnus, would you please show me how you cast 'Stupefy'?"

Smiling to himself, he threw his arm out mid-stride, several Stupefy's hitting the target almost instantly.

"Practise makes perfect, aye?" Harry's awestruck face hardening into one of determination, he turned around and loudly exclaimed "Stupefy!" once more, the red semi-luminescent bolt grazing the dummy's shoulder again.

* * *

 **[Next day, morning]**

Dishing up the pancakes he made, Magnus called for Harry, before sitting down and looking at their copy of the Daily Prophet. Almost half of the front page was a surprisingly brightly-coloured ad, marketing the upcoming duel between 'Two premier agents from The Waverly Company'.

Smiling at the wording used on the ad, he took a bite of his food, hoping he could at least give the people that watched a good show, let alone a 'once-in-a-lifetime spectacle'.

A freshly showered and dressed Harry met him a short while late, a smile splitting his face at the sight of the pancakes, he ran the rest of the way to his seat.

"Hey! What have I said of running?"

Pouring honey over his plate, Harry placed it down before even attempting to look abashed.

"That it attracts unnecessary attention indoors, unless it is to dodge a spell."

Smiling at the boy, Magnus stabbed his fork into his pancakes.

"Right you are! Have a look at this."

Turning the newspaper to Harry, he allowed him to read it.

"Now, there's a nice view box kept out for only me, so is there anybody specific you'd like me to invite? I've got to get the invites and list sent out before tonight."

Thoughtfully chewing on his pancake, he swallowed and shrugged.

"I dunno. I'd like Susan to be there." A slight blush tinting his cheeks, Magnus winked at him.

"Alright, I'll write the Bones down. Shall I invite her friends too?"

"Aren't they our friends too?"

Furrowing his brow slightly, he chuckled, "Yes, I guess they technically are. So, that's Narcissa...ugh, the Malfoys, nevermind. I'll write her an apology."

Harry's questioning look egging him on, he just shook his head. "Don't even ask. It's a long story."

Quirking an eyebrow, Harry simply nodded and continued eating.

"Alright then. The Greengrasses...the Carrows maybe. The Tonks' ?" A questioning glance towards Harry had the nine-year-old shrugging once more.

"You can invite whomever you'd like."

Rolling his eyes at the lack of input, Magnus marked down a couple of people to invite.

"I'll have to ensure Amelia can get some of these people to come, it wouldn't do to not have Alastor Moody there, don't you think?"

Raising an eyebrow, Harry didn't seem to understand the significance of inviting Moody.

"A show of force, Harry. He's not too sure if I can protect you, and I might just have to prove I can."

"You told me I never have to live up to anybody's expectations?"

A laugh escaping the man, he stood up, "Sometimes you need to, unfortunately."

* * *

 **[Three days later, 10:30am]**

Amelia Bones found herself confused once more, both at being at the London Duelling Arena, and at having Harry there under his guise of James. She had received an invitation from Magnus a few days prior, to an apparent duel between two of the premier Waverly Company agents. She had figured who one of the competitors was, but neither of the competitors were revealed on any of the flyers or posters she saw.

Harry being there confirmed Magnus' involvement, but why, she didn't know. The Arena's seating was at its fullest, all fifty-thousand seats filled, some people even standing in the aisles. She found herself understanding why Waverly's agents were so feared...the stadium was barely this full with the recent International Duelling Cup having taken place there, so this must have been a testament to their skill.

" **Ladies and gentlemen!** " The loud boom of a man's voice coming from seemingly nowhere and everywhere. " **We are here tonight to witness true, magical mastery at work! We are here tonight to see just how far magic can be pushed! How fast magic can move! How hard magic can hit!** "

The man's voice met deafening applause, before he seemed to just appear on the large, circular arena.

" **We have a very special show for you all tonight! Two of Waverly Company's premier agents are going head to head in an all-out match of wit, power, endurance, and mastery of magic itself!** "

As the crowd's applause seemed to reach a peak, the man's wand produced a loud boom, quickly reigning silence.

"Now folks, these aren't your average duellers. These are trained mages...Mages that can perform magic many of us thought impossible. **I present...AGENT CORVUS!** "

The roar from the crown deafening once more as Magnus climbed the stage. " **1.95 meters tall, weighing in at 117 kilograms** _ **(6'4"/257lbs).**_ **Corvus is one of the best agents Waverly has seen in recent memory...On paper at least!** "

A laugh escaping the crowd, the announcer basked in the noise before continuing.

" **And now, wizards and witches, I present to you, AGENT ARTEMIS!** "

Another deafening roar following this, Magnus blocked out everything he could hear, focusing on Artemis.

'Of-fucking-course.'

Artemis had been his partner through most of their training, forming a surprisingly close friendship, even going so far as having a relationship of sorts once they graduated. She was irritatingly quick on her feet, with magical reserves to back up most forms of defence. Luckily, her weakness had always been difficulty with new spells, leading to a largely reduced spell repertoire compared to his own.

" **Standing at 1.67 meters, weighing 65 kilos** _ **(5'5"/143lbs).**_ **Agent Artemis is said to be a blur of movement, leaving all her opponents in the dust!"**

She had been one of his closest confidants...eventually becoming just 'another agent' after being picked by Croxley, his brainwashing causing them to ultimately drift apart.

" **As per normal rules, no weapons excluding wands are allowed. All wands need to be presented to our wand evaluator, Wandmaker Garrick Ollivander himself, ladies and gentlemen!** "

More cheers following this, the announcer motioned for them to stand closer to Ollivander, who motioned to Artemis for her wands first.

Placing them in the man's hands, they locked eyes through their obscuring charms, Artemis leading.

"Corvus. Nice to see you."

"Artemis. I concur, it's nice to see you too. Croxley make you kill any children recently?"

Her posture obviously turning to one of anger, she snarled, "Rawlings make you massacre any innocents lately?"

Tension building in the air, Ollivander was hurriedly handed a microphone.

"Agent Artemis' wands are Cherry and Dragon-Heartstring from a Chinese Fireball, and Redwood and a Thunderbird tail feather. Both 10 inches. Agent Corvus?" Handing the wands back, Magnus placed his in the man's outstretched hands.

"W-well...I...umm...Agent Corvus' wands are Blackthorn and White River Monster spine...and Hawthorn with Rougarou Hair core. Thirteen and twelve inches, respectively." Hurriedly placing the wands back in Magnus' hands, the now pale Garrick Ollivander made his way to his seat in a surprisingly quick fashion.

The crowd more silent than a graveyard, Corvus and Artemis made their way back to their spots.

" **There you have it, wizards and witches. Powerful wands for powerful mages. Can the staff please erect the wards?** "

A group of about 15 witches and wizards sprang into action, multiple wards erected in record time, the announcer nearly stuck inside the wards.

" **Our experts have erected all the necessary wards to protect those of us watching this spectacle! Agents! Prepare yourselves!** "

The tension in the room rising exponentially as the agents lifted their wands, before bowing.

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter done ya'll! Chapter 11 is hot on the heels of this one.**

 **PM's and Reviews yada yada yada.**

 **Have a good one !**


	11. The Duel

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 11**

* * *

 **[cont.]**

Harry felt like he was going to burst, Amelia felt light headed, the people accompanying Amelia all seemed to shift uncomfortably as the air around them was permeated with magic, released by the visible auras produced from the agents.

A dropped pin would be comparatively loud in the now dead-silent hall.

What sounded like a loud snap caused Artemis and Corvus to jump into action, spells being traded at rates most Aurors could barely dream of. One of the warders passed out from the exertion on her magical core, a side-effect of the magic hitting the wards. She was quickly levitated out, replaced by another witch whose wand whipped quickly to erect her portion of the wards.

Harry could only gape at the performance in front of him. Vivid yellows clashing with invisible shields before hitting the wards or floor, bright reds shooting faster than the eye could track across the field sized arena, luminescent blues cleaving gorges into the floor.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Amelia herself was gaping, accompanied by over fifty-thousand other spectators.

Dipping below a cutting curse, Magnus released a torrent of cleaving curses. Dodging a _Bombarda_ , he spelled the splinters of stone into steel spikes, an inch in diamater, before sending them through the haze caused by spells and dust. Not hearing a scream, he channelled lightning down his free wand, aiming for a spike nearest to him. A loud howl filling the air as the lightning reacted to the magically charged air, causing the arc to jump towards the other poles, producing what sounded like a banshee's scream.

Using a spell to clear the field, he noticed Artemis flanking him, evident by the bolt of fire that barely missed him. Spinning quickly, seven red bolts were fired towards the moving figure, most of them barely missing her in sequence, one hitting her on the shoulder.

Artemis rolled as the spell hit her, coming to an ultimately unconscious stop two meters later. The audience's collective sharp inhale stirring Magnus' concentration, causing him to smile. 'Stupefy won't keep her down.'

As if hearing his thoughts, Artemis sprang back into life, quickly rolling to a crouched position and firing off a barrage of cutting and piercing curses. Magnus, having noticed the movement, was already moving to the side, casting blasting and concussive curses at the ground between him and her. His smoke screen working as a diversion, he quickly cast multiple cleaving curses horizontally through the smog, dodging more spells coming through at him.

Casting a summoning charm on the ground between them, he formed a makeshift ramp out of the stone, sprinting up it, intent on attacking her from above. His plan foiled by a blasting curse from the side, crumpling his ramp, he _Spongified_ the stone 20 metres down. With a rolling landing, he started moving and casting spells at fantastical levels once more, another flurry of colours illuminating over the crowd's gobsmacked expressions.

Hearing the sound of a shield deflecting his spells, he cast an assortment of concussive spells towards where he presumed Artemis' shield would meet the floor, able to throw her balance off with the blast. A feminine grunt was heard before multiple loud blasts went off.

Waving his wand, Magnus cleared the air once more, just in time to catch a piercing curse with his left shoulder, shredding large amounts of muscle; nearly destroying the bone. The immensely painful sting hardly blocked out, he noticed the signs of her one leg healing, a _Protego_ in place to block more spells. She was breathing heavily, but so was he. Straightening out, he cast a healing charm on his shoulder, a _Protego_ in place as the wound stitched itself together.

"So did you want the contract? Or did that dumbass force you to do this?"

Her body stiffening slightly, she quipped, "And you're ideal?" A grunt escaping her as the tell-tale sound of bone cracking and setting came from her leg.

"I've been ideal so far, haven't I? No complaints. Unlike your last job I hear."

Her body language indicating a scowl or a frown, he smiled, "Unlike Croxley, my boss is actually sharing reports."

A luminescent orange spell escaping her other wand, he easily deflected it away.

"Nothing to say, Arty? Just gonna fight and walk away afterwards?"

"Fuck you, asshole!"

Her wands moving in a flurry, a barrage of spells of a primarily blue and orange composition started pummelling his shield, causing him to step back; his shoulder still not ideally recovered to even lift up.

He was deflecting as many of them towards her as he could manage, but still found himself being pushed back. An irritated growl forming in his throat, he lifted his left arm and cast a disruption curse, a gleeful smirk forming on his face as most of her incoming spells fizzed out of existence. A warmth spreading from his shoulder indicating it was as healed as can be, he ran forward, her demeanour changing from surprised to annoyed once more.

Stowing her wands, she started running forward, nary a limp from her left leg, intent on intercepting him before he could cast any spells. Seeing her approaching, he stowed his own wands, knowing precisely she wanted to use her speed up-close.

As both of the agents met each other with a flurry of blows, Amelia Bones stirred herself from her hypnotised state, wiping some spittle off of her chin. She dared not take her eyes off the spectacle, but she was here for more than just the show; reconnaissance was always important.

She let her eyes quickly roam the crowds, looking for anybody familiar. Not recognising anybody, she surveyed the view boxes, like the one she and Magnus' other guests were in, and noticed some peculiar faces.

Minister Fudge with many of his...loyal supporters were gaping at the spectacle too. Dumbledore with a few of the Order members. Two more boxes were occupied by what looked like teams with Handlers...likely this Croxley, Magnus had referred to; and his own Handler, a Rawlings. One was filled by, surprisingly, a few International Duelling Guild members, both old and young. Not recognizing anybody in the other boxes, she looked up to the single room splayed right over the arena, dark windows obscuring any views towards inside. This likely held the judges and those of enough repute to warrant a personal invitation.

Placing her attention back on the fight, she noticed an alarming amount of blood covering both fighters.

The blood was a minor incovenience at best for the fighters, unseen damage having built up quickly. Both panting heavily, Magnus wiped blood off of his brow, his black duelling gloves now more maroon.

Artemis was limping again, caused by him punching her on the hip and kidneys. He was barely able to move himself, a punch from her dislocating his one kneecap, and a kick nearly dislocating his hip.

"Just surrender already Artemis, we both know this is going to go on for too long, and then I'm gonna win by a fluke. I accepted the contract and I'll be damned if I let Croc-o-shit get any form of control near him."

A deep breath racking her body, she replied, "Y-You don't deserve it...you mongrel. I deserve it. I've worked so much harder...than you, to get where I am."

"I recall us working equally hard to improve the other. I recall you accepting that walking corpse's lies and bullshit, just because you wanted money and power immediately. You couldn't learn that disruptor curse even if you tried, because you never had the fuckin' will to do so much better."

A growl escaping her before a concussion spell left the wand that suddenly appeared in her hand. A cutting hex replying, he scored a hit, severing her legs diagonally; above and below the knees. The concussion spell however, seemed to have indirectly scored a hit on him, as he found breathing difficult.

Glancing down, he saw spots of blood forming on his shirt under his jacket and vest. It seemed like some stone shrapnel had gone through him, taking at least a lung out...and who knew what else. Struggling to retain consciousness, he straggled over to Artemis' crawling form, intent on finishing the fight.

Her grunts of exertion paining his heart, he launched a red bolt into the nape of her neck at near point-blank range, ensuring her unconsciousness. Sitting down, he felt the wards collapsing as the announcer proclaimed something, the roar of the applause a dull drone in his ears.

He recognised one of the approaching figures, a Medical...it was Kate?

"I'm here Corvus, I'm here."

Giving her his best shit eating grin, not that she could necessarily see it, he uttered all he could manage.

"Kate."

"Yes, you idiot. Yes, I'm here."

He felt a stinging burn in his chest, before Kate released a sigh of relief.

"I removed the shrapnel, you're gonna be fine. Stay awake Corvus, you've gotta walk out of here too."

Repeating 'Stay awake' to himself over and over, he felt cold spreading from where he assumed his newly acquired holes were.

"Sealed up." Shoving a potion into his face, she simply demanded, "Drink."

After swallowing one of the worst potions he'd ever tasted, he glanced over at Artemis, noticing her legs had already been reattached; the skin turning a rosy pink once more.

"You guys work quick..."

Feeling hands pulling him up, he obliged, nearly collapsing again.

"Well you've got some internal damage, that'll come right in about a week. Some bone damage, that'll be better tomorrow morning already." Handing him another potion. "That's for blood-replenishment. It'll also help heal your arm, which should heal perfectly fine." Another potion stuffed into his hands, "That's for the bone damage."

Having stowed the potions, he pulled out his wands before examining them, stowing them again when he was happy with their condition. Moving over to where Artemis was now standing, he helped her balance herself, receiving a grateful nod.

"Sorry...about...what I said."

A tinkling laughter coming from the shadows of her hood, she hissed as she placed a hand onto her ribs.

"Surprisingly enough, having your legs cut off puts most things into perspective."

Chuckling himself, he thanked the medics as they walked off, having listed her problems and given her multiple dosages of potions.

A snort emanating from Kate, they glanced over, "You really fucked each other up. I hope that was an effective stress-reliever, because you're taking some rest. Now listen, both of you. Your bodies are fragile and your magic is little and weak. Take. It. Easy. For, at least, three days."

Two nods meeting her statement, she gave them a satisfied smirk and walked away with the rest of her medical team.

"I think I can stand...let me try."

Releasing her slightly, she tested her legs. "I hope to Merlin's sweaty sack they didn't put them on wrong."

"Are your feet supposed to be pointing backwards?"

A smack on his injured side quelling his retorts, she let go of his arm, her weight placed fully on her legs, a hiss escaping her gritted teeth.

"Be happy it wasn't a curse, those hurt way worse. And they can't easily fix it either, takes like an hour of cleaning magic to allow them to even reattach the thing."

Straightening out as the announcer approached, she felt her the rest of her trousers covering her legs, glancing down she noticed Magnus stowing his wand.

"Thanks."

A grunt accepting her thanks, the announcer arrived, his eyes still big.

"I... I'm speechless. I haven't seen something quite like that in twenty years. You can both feel like winners, this match is going down in history, and you're both making a pretty penny."

Artemis, sounding excited at the prospect of coin, perked up. "Money?"

"Aye las, any bets, whether legal or illegal, will be split with the duellers, whether they lose or win. And we cashed out for this show, lemme tell ya!"

Magnus' gruff "How much?" making the man nervous," W-well, I believe the total pool was just over 2 million goldens, you receiving a split of 10, she of 7."

A gasp escaping Artemis, Magnus nodded happily.

"Very well. Can we move this along? My insides hurt."

Grunting, the announcer sidled up to Magnus' open side, placing his wand onto his throat and putting a microphone against his lips.

" **Witches and Wizards! Our winner, AGENT CORVUS!** "

Deafening cheers greeting this, Magnus and Artemis were guided off the stage and into a side room.

* * *

A man in a muggle-looking suit greeted them inside; grey eyes, pepper hair, and clean shaven.

"Agents Magnus and Artemis, it is an honour to have been able to watch that absolute spectacle with my own two eyes. Now onto your winnings. The total betting pool is currently around two-point-four-million Galleons, seven-thousand and four Sickles, and nineteen Knuts. For the sake of the amazing performance, we will be rounding the total pool up to two-point-five million Galleons, which means..."

Frowning down at some figures, he seemed deep in thought for a moment. "Artemis, you will be receiving one-hundred and seventy-five thousand. Corvus, two-hundred and fifty thousand. Should there be any large additions, the proper amounts will be deposited directly into your Waverly accounts."

Standing up, the man closed the book he was using, and nodded at both of them. "Agents. It has been an honour. Farewell." Quickly walking out of another door, towards the outside of the arena. They glanced at each other, before a laugh racked their bodies.

Artemis barely able to form a comprehensive "Holy shit!"

After quieting down, Artemis grappled at Magnus, hugging him harder than he remembered in a long time.

"I can afford everything my new place needs! YES!"

Pulling her back to arm's length, he smiled down at her, a smile returning.

"We should fight more often. I mean, I feel like shit, but I haven't been this relaxed in months."

Another tinkling laugh was followed by a note stuck in his pocket.

"You ever want to relieve some more stress, that's my new place's address...maybe come visit me some time."

A pinch on his bottom had her sauntering towards the same door their accountant had left through.

"See ya around...Magnus."

The door closing behind her, he ran his hands over his face, muttering to himself.

"Bloody witches...with their nice arses...friggen..."

Standing up, he made his way over to the door they entered, listening for activity. Hearing a multitude of voices and murmurs, he dropped his hood, and cast a glamour over himself, 'Peter' assuming his face; his cloths changing into much more casual wear. Opening the door, he started towards the viewing box he was told was reserved for his entourage.

Almost at his box, he was shoved out of the way by a rather agitated looking Croxley, his team following behind at a more sedate pace. Nodding at them as they passed, he entered his view box, immediately being rushed by three figures.

The first to reach him was Harry, grabbing him around his waist, the second was Tonks, wrapping her arms around his shoulders...was her chest bigger than last time? The last was Amelia Bones, a hard grip near his damaged shoulder, a reprimanding look on her face.

Pulling away from Magnus, Harry was nearly vibrating out of his skin, "You've gotta teach me how to do that!"

Smiling down and ruffling his hair, Magnus raised his eyebrows "Do what?"

Understanding the hint, Harry improvised, "Apparate!"

"Someday I can, maybe."

Looking up at the rest of the room's occupants, he realised most of them were still looking dumbly at the arena.

"What'd I miss, ladies and gentlemen?"

Andromeda Tonks gaining her bearings first, barely muttered loud enough for him to hear.

"A duel I don't think I'll ever see again."

Alastor Moody, his invitation having been accepted with a note of 'I'll be there', sat back and studied the man.

"That 'Corvus' fella's a scary sort." Giving Magnus a pointed look, "I glad he's not fighting us."

Internally beaming from Moody's veiled compliment, he surveyed the room.

"I'm famished, shall we go get some food?"

Amelia's expression turned dire. "Food? You want food?" Leaning closer to him, ensuring nobody else could hear her. "After a fight like that you think of food?!" Her aggressively hushed tones causing him to stifle a laugh.

Leaning closer to her in an exaggerated manner, he stage-whispered himself, "Yes. I'm famished from hearing of a fight like that, imagine how hungry poor Agent Corvus must be?"

Not having noticed the door opening, his attention was drawn to one Emile Greengrass' uproarious laugh at his 'joke', Eveline behind him.

"That would mean Agent Corvus must be near starved to death!"

Smiling at the man, "Right you are Emile...Right you are."

Everybody in the room having regained their senses, they shuffled towards the door, colours still flashing every time they blinked. In the hallway outside, Magnus was speaking with Harry, Amelia conversing with the Greengrasses, the three Tonks standing to the side.

Done with Harry, Magnus walked over to Amelia, Harry moving to the Tonks', intent on discussing 'How awesome that was!'. Harry seemed to be able to lie so easily, he knew there was a lot of Slytherin in him, he'd bet that Harry would rule the den of snakes...but the kid had an undeniable thirst for knowledge. Thinking to himself, he should make a betting pool amongst this...'group' he was a part of, bet on whose kids went where.

Reaching Amelia, he cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "I wanted to ask earlier, but where's the rest of your tribe?"

Smiling at his nickname for her circle, she thought to herself before taking a breath.

"Narcissa was with her 'husband', Susan had a party to be at, and the rest of them were either in other boxes or unable to come. Few people wanted to miss this, the place was packed."

"Well I hope you bet a little bit, the pool was two-point-four million last I heard."

Her eyes growing rapidly, she paled. "I bet a couple galleons...I am definitely taking a vacation to somewhere warm next year."

Chuckling, he glanced around him. Seeing everybody there, he motioned for Harry to follow, intent on leaving.

Almost making it to the door to outside, he heard an aggravated growl from behind him. Turning around he followed Amelia's sight, spotting a submissive looking Narcissa walking next to Lucius Malfoy, his little gang following close behind. Seeing the blond ponce had reminded him of his prisoner...who he had again completely forgotten about.

A hand slapping to his forehead, Amelia looked at him inquisitively, him just looking irritated at everything.

Lucius and co. reaching them, Lucius attempted his most threatening sneer, nearly making Magnus laugh in his face; he seemed to be constipated and having a stroke.

A dull drawl barely escaping his lips, he looked to Amelia.

" _Director_ Bones."

Amelia's " _Lucius_ Malfoy." causing Magnus to smile, the man's ire was drawn to him.

"And you are?"

Stretching a hand out, Peter gave him as much of a forced smile as he could, "Peter Burnwood, how are ya?"

Lucius looking at his hand in disdain, sniffed and started for the door.

Leaning towards Amelia, he stage-whispered, "I didn't know the Malfoys were all women."

Her snort causing Lucius to turn around, his wand in his hand, he felt a cold blade pressed into his throat.

"Don't try anything, fuckin' blonde jackass. Stow that shite and get out."

His eyes widening, his wand was stowed and he was out of the door before Narcissa could hide her smile; said woman waving at them as she left, her frowning son in tow.

He received a few glares from the rest of the 'Pure-Blood Brigade' as they too left, a few in his own group still chuckling at his jibe towards Malfoy.

He was way too hungry to deal with these assholes.

Turning towards the group, he asked them all a simple question, a question that would garner many questioning faces, and a few that seemed extremely pleased. A question that would change the older purebloods' views on muggle foods forever.

"Pizza?"

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Chapter 12 dropping in a week probably.**

 **Have a good one!**


	12. The Drop

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 12**

* * *

 **[11:52am, 29/07/1990, London Safehouse]**

A notepad flopping down onto his table drew Magnus' attention to the boy standing in front of his desk in the barely modest study. Harry's self-assured smile indicating he'd finished his latest report, its subject matter concerning the differences between curses, jinxes, and hexes.

Narrowing his eyes at his charge's smile, he pulled the book closer, flipping through it. An accepting nod meeting Harry's mirth, he looked into his eyes.

"What's your request then?"

His body nearly seeming to vibrate, his smile grew into a grin.

"I want to go to Paris for my birthday."

Holding his eyes, Magnus smiled, "And who shall we invite?"

Seemingly contemplating this for barely a moment, Harry looked back to Magnus.

"After much thought, I've decided not to invite anybody. I mean, Aunt Amelia is probably going to arrange a large party, whether she has my input or not. So why not go to Paris for my birthday, and then just attend her party when it's held?"

Standing up, Magnus and Harry headed towards the kitchen.

"That seems reasonable enough. Anything specific you wanna do?"

Taking a seat, Harry replied to Magnus' back, the man preparing himself coffee. Harry's hand lifted to tick a mental list off, seemingly losing himself in thought, "Top of the Eiffel Tower, a stop at Dupont's Duelling Supplies, maybe flying at one of their pitches! Please! And I wanna have a look at as many shopping and living districts there as I can." A satisfied smirk pulling at his lips, Harry sat back on his stool, a chuckling Magnus turning around with a steaming cup.

"We can do the Eiffel Tower. Dupont's is pretty oversold, but we can go. And we've gone flying three times this week already...but I don't see why we can't try to arrange a round at one of their fields. And why 'as many as you can'?"

The boy's arms raised in success, Magnus gave him a pointed look.

"I've read their architecture is really nice, and that they have different magics than Britain ergo, so many books. I've been saving."

"Remember, we're going glamour-less, so you've got to be on your toes. How're your wand movements improving?"

Seemingly deflating rather quickly, Harry sunk into his stool.

"I remember most of the basics by now...bar the concussive blast though. I'm struggling to aim it properly, it's like it generates a weirdly proportioned field...and how exactly are you going to go glamour-less?"

Placing his mug down, Magnus stifled a laugh, "I've got a new trinket, disrupts people's memories of me, super advanced magic. We can try arranging a training room when we get back. Now go pack some clothes, we're leaving tonight. Why not spend a week there?"

Harry's face lighting up, he moved towards his room faster than Magnus remembered he could.

Taking another sip from his mug, Magnus contemplated the months preceding their current lives.

He'd sent Yaxley's mangled carcass to Lucius Malfoy a week after the duel, a note thanking them for letting him borrow Yaxley, and that they could have him back now...most of him anyway.

Narcissa seemed rather...elated when he saw her next, thanking him for 'Scaring the pants off that ponce.' It seemed his gift had intimidated Malfoy enough that Narcissa was reigning back control of the house, her husband barely able to use the bathroom without a wand and guards at the ready.

His now empty mug in their sink, Magnus headed towards his room, remembering having things to do before they left. Getting dressed in his standard uniform of black, he flicked his wand, his boot's laces tying themselves in a flurry of movement. Knocking on Harry's door, he informed him that they would be leaving later that afternoon, and that he was going out for work.

Standing in the living room, Magnus ensured all his holsters were fastened, and his hood with charms were up. With a slight twist, and a near silent pop, the man disappeared.

* * *

 **[12:35pm, Diagon Alley, Apparation Point 4]**

A hushed pop welcoming Magnus' cloaked figure, he moved quickly towards one of Knockturn Alley's entrances, disappearing into the alley seconds before two aurors cleared the crowd and stopped at the entrance.

Moving swiftly, Magnus looked towards an informant's drop-spot, the Death Eaters' latest movements inscribed inside.

Now seated on the arranged bench, he glanced up and down the alley. Any people, hags and haggard-types alike, had cleared quickly; those not already having moved away from him, moved quickly from the two patrolling aurors.

He kept them in his peripheral vision as he muttered a finite under his breath, the agreed password reverbing in his head. A small thud sounding from under the bench, Magnus quietly levitated the now visible and unstuck parcel into his right jacket interior pocket.

Having stowed his wand and package, he opened a conjured newspaper, hoping to blend in and miss the aurors' ire. The aurors passed him without fault, until a bright red bolt nearly hit Magnus, his newspaper blocking the bolt as his wand erected a shield.

The aurors glanced at each other before practically snarling, red spells launched at Magnus. Their performance together barely compared to Artemis' in his recent duel, he looked at them questioningly, a smile pulling at his lips.

"You know who I am, right?"

Their barrage ended, both covered in sweat, nearly dripping from their brows. They glanced towards each other once more, a slight pallor forming on their faces. Looking towards Magnus again, the one seemed able to nod.

"Why are you attacking me?"

"W-we thought we could surprise you...and we have orders to apprehend and question one...Agent...Corvus." His voice barely a whisper at the end, a realisation seemed to dawn on him.

Chuckling, Magnus shot a red bolt from his wand, barely missing the one auror, his shield flickering into life seconds later.

"That was no mistake. I recommend you continue with your rounds. You never saw me, understand?"

Two heads rapidly nodding, they cautiously walked backwards, stowing their wands and jogging almost 20 metres away, soon disappearing around a bend in the alley.

The tension leaving his body, he missed the bombardment curse hitting the wall next to him, throwing him further into the alley. Standing up, he felt a sharp pain stab in his side. Hoping for the best, Magnus limped as fast as he could down a side alley, finding himself in a small courtyard, a few small shops enclosing it.

Casting a blocking ward on the entrance tunnel, Magnus eased himself against a nearby wall, out of the entrance's sight. Casting multiple healing charms, he hissed in pain before casting a numbing charm on his now healing side.

Hearing approaching footsteps, Magnus looked up, into the eyes of a young black boy. Another hiss escaping his lips as he felt a crack in his ribs mend, they boy's eyes widened.

"A-are you okay, sir?"

Looking up in astonishment, Magnus felt a ping from his ward, a spell having just hit it. Pushing himself up, he ushered the boy back to his origins. "Go get your parents, and get inside or something, there's a big fight coming." A concerned looking olive-skinned woman walked out of a shop, her face contorting into one of abject horror as she saw her son running away from a cloaked figure spattered in blood, a dark wand in his hand.

Reaching his mother, Blaise Zabini was almost breathless, his cries of "Inside! Inside!" drawing the attention of the nearby people. A wave of eyes met Magnus' retreating form, those experienced enough recognizing the purple-tinged field at the entrance, also understanding the flashes were curses meant to break it. A few cries of "Move!" had the crowd running for shops, Sofia Zabini dragging Blaise behind her. A thought passing her mind as she entered the nearby pâtisserie, she might just join Amelia at her next tea.

Satisfied that everybody was safe for now, he ensured he was at a minimum not going to die. Realising how limited in movement he would be, he opted to stay his ground, not wanting to hurl his body through the wards. That had hurt like a motherfucker every time, and he was not chancing it with his current injuries. A final tremor running through his core, his ward collapsed, allowing all the built-up dust to enter the courtyard; the cloud enshrouding his opponents approach.

Several cutting curses escaping the cloud, Magnus was barely able to block them, not wishing for any collateral. Sending three piercing curses towards their origins, he transfigured some walls from the cobblestone of the courtyard, hoping it would hold.

Receiving multiple incapacitating curses in turn, he misdirected them before moving forwards, casting stunners and cutting curses as he moved. A gurgle resounding from the dust-shrouded hole seemed to dissipate the flow of spells; he seemed to have taken at least one of three guys down.

Eyes widening as he heard a hissed _Avada Kedavra_ , he rolled to the side, the curse blasting a hole in the wall behind him. He crouched from the roll and sent another cutting curse into the now clearing fog, his adversaries' silhouettes barely visible. A loud, wet thud met the spell, confirming his kill.

Standing up, he hissed and tried to ignore the pain in his side, a sharp sting following every heartbeat. A dark chuckle escaping the dust, it seemed to disappear as a strong wind whipped at it, another cutting curse barely missing Magnus' shoulder.

"You're good...very good. You'd do great things by my lord's side."

The last figure was now visible, a dark cloak with a bone white mask; a straight, dark wand pointed at Magnus, the tell-tale shimmer of a _Protego_ emanating from the tip.

"Join the dark tosser? Please, there are more chances of Dumbledore joining that prick than me."

A piercing curse flung from his wand, his opponent deftly blocked it, seemingly surprised by the power of the curse, if his grunt was any indication.

"Do not insult my master!" Exchanging curses once more, Magnus was trying to come up with some way of disabling his opponent, maybe he'd have good info.

The trading continuing, Magnus unable to move quickly due to his injuries, and the opponent barely able to block and dodge all of his spells. A final concussive spell next to his opponent throwing him off his feet, Magnus stunned the man mid-air, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud.

A sigh of relief escaping Magnus' lips, he tied the man and stunned him again, before pulling off his mask.

A dual gasp of "MacNair!" had his wand trained on the two aurors from earlier, both of them straightening out really quickly. Their wands were shakily pointed back, neither seemingly knowing how to react.

"I was attacked. I defended myself."

"W-we believe you sir, we saw the...the blast throwing you. We messaged for backup and they're struggling to get through the crowds."

Nodding, Magnus crouched down to MacNair's still unconscious form, his wand still trained on the aurors. A quick dig through the man's pockets had a small chain in his hand, a portkey signature purveying every inch of it, a few galleons, a spare wand, and a piece of parchment; the parchment containing observations of him.

A frown crossing his brow, Magnus tossed the galleons towards the aurors.

"You saw nothing."

His transfigured walls collapsing before he and MacNair disappeared with a loud pop, the two aurors surveyed the scene, patting the galleons in their pockets.

"How do we sell this one?" A grunt and raised shoulders meeting his question, the first auror walked towards the appearing civilians, knowing he'd be stuck filing reports for hours, Moody breathing down his neck about vigilance and proper protocol.

* * *

 **[Location undisclosed]**

A loud pop resounding had two figures appearing in a ten by ten metre room, the walls, floor, and ceiling covered in large, white tiles. Magnus pulled MacNair onto one of the two chairs in the room, no other items found anywhere, only a bright halogen light buzzing overhead.

Tying the man down, Magnus enervated him, standing before the seated man. The man looked around groggily, his eyes focusing on Magnus. Seemingly recognising the oil-fire he now found himself in, he struggled against his bindings, coming to the conclusion that they weren't going to move rather quickly.

"You've been tracking me for a while, Walden Macnair."

The man froze at the voice, straightening out and pasting a sneer on his lips.

"You're a reckless child, it was easy to track you." Spitting towards Magnus' feet, he stared where he assumed his captor's eyes would be. "You ain't getting nothing from me, boy. Better than you have tried, and they all failed."

The man's gritted scream reverbing through the room, his left leg now the host of a large gash.

"What information you carry is of little concern to your consent. I'm using you to send a message, it seems you tossers hadn't learnt your lesson with Yaxley, so now you're part of my plan to ensure delaying or killing this war."

A choked laugh escaping MacNair's lips, he leaned forward against his bonds.

"And how the fuck do you think you'll be accomplishing that, lad? Sending my body too?"

Moving towards one of the walls, an intercom appeared as Magnus neared it.

"I'm sending your body back, but not cut up, no, that'd be a faux-pas. I'm using your body to transport some muggle...inventions, if you will. You purebloods seem to doubt their intelligence in all regards, including warfare." Leaning forward, Magnus pressed the button on the intercom. "Agent Corvus, Room 4."

A few muttered words following this, he thought to himself. "Send me the files of Malfoy Manor, please."

Another mumbled reply, and a table with a file appeared next to him. Walking over to the file, he flipped through it, stopping at the house's assumed layout.

"You ever heard of plastic explosives, MacNair? This muggle chap, named Alfred Nobel, made chemicals that explode rather well in the 1860's, patents 'Dynamite' in 1867; later patents another explosive in 1876, called 'Gelignite'. Later on, one of our very own British scientists patented multiple other plastic explosives, and it seemed to work especially well for what it was meant to do. By now, we've gone through so many iterations that it just seems like the perfect tool for almost anything...luckily for me, you fall into that same category of being useful."

Looking at the hooded man in confusion, MacNair snarled.

"The muggles cannot defeat our master, you wretched child! You presume your precious mudblood inventions will scare the Dark Lord's forces?!"

A slap resounding in the room, MacNair blinked to clear the stars in his vision.

"Have you ever seen what a concussion curse does at point blank?" A defiant look boring into his hood, he grabbed the man's face, ensuring he was looking into his eyes. "Those 'mudbloods' have made ways to do that without even glancing at you. Flying behemoths that rain down dozens of explosives, ripping cities to shreds. And if you refer to me as a form of child one more time, I'm spending the next five hours teaching you the intricacies of _Crucio_ your master forgets."

Releasing the man's face, Magnus walked back to the intercom, pressing the button as he stopped at the wall.

"Corvus again. I need fifty kilos of PE-4."

Releasing the button, a duffle bag appeared on the table carrying the file.

"As I'm sure you know, magic is near limitless. Muggles are restricted by distance and time, things we as wizards can easily overcome. That's why..." Placing an off-white brick down on the table. "You are taking these to Malfoy Manor for me."

"I'd never help you...boy."

"I know. Your body can probably store all this without any charms, once I've got your organs out."

Paling quickly, MacNair fought his bonds once more.

"No use in trying to fight anymore MacNair, your battles are over. _Legilimens_."

The man's gurgled scream silencing quickly as Magnus tore through his pitiful mental shield, quickly surveying the man's thoughts before delving deeper. MacNair's mind wouldn't fully survive Magnus' interrogation, but neither would his body.

As he reviewed memory upon memory, Magnus mentally noted to contact Amelia, he doubted she'd approve of Narcissa being vaporised in an explosion.

An hour later found a tired Magnus sitting across from a foaming, twitching MacNair, the man's brain now likely barely more than grey matter. Lifting the tip of his wand, a silvery mist flowed out of it, before coalescing into a large raven upon his knees.

"To Amelia Bones. I recommend you contact the Malfoy's and suggest a vacation. If their manor is still being used as a Death Eater hideout, ETA of ordnance is 3 hours, make sure at least Narcissa and her son are out."

The Raven nodded before disappearing, the silver mist accompanying it slowly fading as Magnus turned towards MacNair. "I'm sorry it had to turn out like this, you were probably an alright sort most of the time."

Two flicks of his wand had the man's body seizing before slumping in on itself, most of his internal organs seemingly ceasing existence. Noting down some reminders to sort, extract, and deposit the memories he took, he returned to the duffle bag. he started the arduous task of preparing the explosives for detonation, small blocks having wires inserted and placed next to their already done counterparts; wires jumbling up most of the table.

Another hour later he had received a patronus back, stating that the Malfoys have left the country on vacation to France, and that her intervention was not even necessary. She had, however, relayed that Narcissa nearly begged for 'Corvus' to send whatever he was preparing, to a different house; some safehouse in Wales.

He would apparently 'Kill less of the inner circles, but kill much more of the bulk forces', this had made him decide to bomb the safehouse...and partially because he was unsure if Narcissa would forgive 'Agent Corvus'. Having finished with his preparations, Magnus stuffed the explosives into MacNair's body, flicking his wand to stitch up the gaping hole in the corpse's stomach.

He was hoping to destroy the safe house with no collateral damage, but whether it destroyed the whole building, or killed some children, were up in the air at this point. He touched his wand to his injured side, a list forming in his mind of statuses of bones, organs, and blood. He hoped he was healed enough, another healing charm layering his side before a cleaning charm scrubbed the blood and grime from his clothes.

He couldn't actually get himself to just place a timed portkey on the corpse and hope for the best...what if it was right next to an orphanage? Or a baby clinic? Or another locale where many young innocents gathered? The decision made for him, he grabbed MacNair's mask off the floor where he threw it when they arrived. He was planning on being a convincing enough Death Eater to gain access to the safehouse, plan where he could pop the most.

"I hope Harry forgives me for being late." As he placed the mask inside his jacket, a sticking charm keeping it under his left arm, he twisted and disappeared.

* * *

 **[Time undisclosed]**

Albus Dumbledore had not been having an 'ideal' two years, in retrospect. First, Harry Potter had gone missing, only to turn up again later with a 'Peter Burnwood'; a man Dumbledore had made far too many favours trying to obtain information about, to no avail. The man practically didn't exist, so he could only assume that it was a cover, but who was he then?

Rubbing his weary head, he contemplated candidates, not liking the consequences of any of them. An undercover Death Eater was very unlikely, to his relief, Amelia seemed to have befriended the man and child rather easily. A Waverly agent though? The idea had some plausibility, if not begging the question of why?

The thought of an undercover ally was quickly struck away, he would have known of them then...yet if they were an ally and he did not know them, then who was pulling the strings?

Maybe the man simply had his records erased? A snort escaping the wizened wizard, he smirked. He doubted anybody with the ability to have all of their records erased would be able to operate right under his nose.

His mind wandering to Harry's potential as he reviewed his latest batch of reports, his informants having been working overtime in attempts to nip whatever war was brewing in the bud. He hoped to Merlin that Harry would be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good.

* * *

 **A/N: Another one. Hope you enjoyed it. PM's and reviews welcome.**

 **Have a good one!**


	13. The Safehouse

**Guardian Wand**

 **Chapter 13**

* * *

 **[15:38pm, outskirts of Merthyr Tydfil, Wales]**

A pop filled the afternoon air as Magnus appeared in the shade of a particularly large fir tree. Staying in place, he observed the nearby street, noting an obvious absence of muggle foot-traffic. The house he had described to him was surrounded by taller fences, compared to its neighbours, a dark air hanging around the property.

Sending a group of hidden diagnostic and scanning charms towards the property, he retrieved the mask as a list of wards and charms entered his mind, an entry of which had Magnus swearing. There were two linked charms, one scanning the 'level of access' the mask was charmed with, the other scanning his body for a _Protean_ charm linked to the mask in his case.

Leaning against the tree, he pressed his wand to his arm, his clothes not inhibiting the magic from flowing into his skin. As a reconstruction of the Dark Mark formed on his left arm, he focused on the signature the mask was giving off, hoping it would at a minimum fool the primary wards and targets he had to interact with. Placing the mask on his face, he felt its sticking charms activating as he removed his hand, the slits located at his eyes containing nothing but darkness.

A deep sigh escaping him, Magnus pushed himself from the tree, a short journey finding him at the small, wrought-iron gate, the wards daring him to stretch his hand out and open the gate. Glancing to the two houses next to his target, he affirmed them empty...for now at least. Purposefully ignoring the floating doubt of the three other houses surrounding it, he pushed his hand forward, the gate letting out a rather irritating grate at the invisible force pushing it open.

Taking a step forward, Magnus froze in place as a coldness enveloped him, the wards activated and scanning his signatures. A moment later had most of the coldness dissipating, a nagging piece of frost still clinging to his insides, he strode towards the door, hoping they hadn't gone full Russian with secret knocks and passwords.

Two loud raps were answered with hurried shuffling behind the door, a metal slot slid open to be replaced by two dull brown eyes. "Whaddaya want, fuckface?"

A snare distorting Magnus' face, he realised how easily he'd be able to slip into the persona of one of these inbred fools.

"Is that how one communicates with their superiors?"

The eyes squinting in the slot, widened slightly before multiple bolts were sharply slid open, a disgruntled _Alohomora_ slipping out of the still-open view-hole. The door swung open rather fast, as the Death Eater inside stood to the side of the entrance, his clothes shabby and eyes towards the ground.

"M-My apologies, m'lord. We weren't expecting any officers today."

Pushing past the man, Magnus loomed over him. "We musn't get lazy. Once the Dark Lord returns, he will not allow lethargy."

The man nodding quickly and moving to close the door, Magnus moved further down the hallway.

"I am from the Dark Lord's secret forces. I am assigned to review this...safehouse. Retrieve me somebody to give me a tour so that I may leave this vile place."

More nods from the man, "Y-yes sir, right away sir!" The man nearly bounding down the hallway to a set of large doors, two more doors on the walls to the left and right, he opened them before a holler of "McCready!" had a figure moving towards him.

Having reached the door, Magnus observed the room and its numerous occupants. It appeared to be a mess-hall of sorts, the room easily larger than the entire house outside, with two doors on the walls to the left and right. As most of the occupants' attention seemed to bleed away from him, he recognised most of them as foot soldiers; standard brainless cannon fodder. Some higher-ranking Death Eaters were spread around, likely seated with squads assigned to them.

His attention drawn from the hall by the now-present figure, he turned and had to smother his shock. Women were quite rarely plain soldiers, these wars seeing them as mostly bystanders, healers, or co-ordinators. Her curt "Sir." drawing him from his thoughts.

The doorman seemed to jump at the chance of seeming important. "This fine sir here needs a tour to review the place. Dyn pwysig ( _important man)_ , ay?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at the man, a slight Scottish drawl tugging at her words. "For the last time Brogden, I'm fuckin' Scottish, not Welsh, ye' wee pricked bastard."

The man glowering at her insult, a counter on the tip of his tongue, was rather quickly cowed by the larger figure next to him clearing his throat. "Go man your station, I have no further use of you." Nods meeting this, the man quietly retreated back to the door, a glare towards McCready met by a two-finger salute.

"Alana McCready, ready to go, sir."

Looking her dark clothing up and down, an appreciative glance following her curves, he met her eyes.

"Miss McCready. Shall we start with the rooms leading from the dining hall?"

"Surely, sir. We can go through this door to get to that side too, if you'd prefer." Her arm gesturing towards the door on Magnus' left, he nodded before following her through, a glance towards her posterior nearly causing him to ball her over as she stopped. Looking up, he recognised the large room as a form of training quarters.

"Our training room, sir. Frequently inspected wards and charms, up to standard duelling regulations at a minimum."

Taking two steps forward, Magnus launched a cleaving- and piercing curse at the dummies around 20 metres away, eviscerating six before the piercing curse literally exploded a seventh. His wand stowed, he looked as the damages to the wall and dummies was repaired quickly.

"Admirable. Miss McCready, who are the top five duellers posted here?"

A thoughtful look crossing her features, Magnus inspected the wards with a few muttered spells, awaiting her reply.

"If memory serves, sir, I am currently second, close to first but this little ponce keeps barely beating me every fuckin' time, Fergus Thomson. Third's a close friend, Laura Mitchell, but she's mostly just floating by on natural talent. Fourth and fifth are siblings Avery and Ruby Stewart, creepy pair more devoted to each other than the dark lord if I were being frank."

Intently listening, he noted to himself to try and make a play that gets them into Waverly's grasp, he could get Rawlings some new agents from this.

"Noted. Tell me...where do your devotions lie? Are they with this Dark Lord? Or do they lie in other places?"

She seemed taken aback by the question, her face schooled back into a calm demeanour impressively fast, she cleared her throat.

"I assure you, sir, that if this is a test, I am not intent on failing. My devotions...lie with our lord."

Stowing his wand, Magnus noted both a falter in her stance and breath. "Actually, this is no test. This is an opportunity for you to escape a war you're already losing, and a swift death from a target you never even saw coming...and no, I am not threatening you."

Her confused frown turning to one of shock, then anger, finally setting on one of realisation.

"You're not a Death Eater at all. Who do you work for then? That Dumbledore man isn't known for killing, so I assume you're with one of the PMC's?" Her wand had slid into her hand in the meantime, Magnus picking up the slight movements, doing the same.

"Waverly, and I am offering you an opportunity to leave these assholes behind and maybe make some good money. I don't know how fast, or strong, adept, etcetera, you and your friends are, so training more like. After that though, you get paid well, accommodation, and as much food and drink as you'd require too. So me and you are gonna continue this tour, because I actually have cover to keep, and you're gonna mull that over. Once you've decided I'll continue the...negotiations of sorts, so lead on."

Rather overtaken, she swivelled on her heel, her wand being stowed in the motion, and walked towards a door on the right-side wall of their original entrance. "Armoury's next." The monotone rather worrying Magnus, the previously lively woman seemed too deep in thought, but do more than walk down a short hallway into another room.

Magnus' eyes glided over the rather...drab assortment of equipment they dared call an inventory. There was a stack of unorganised armour, differing materials shining in the dim light, the stack slightly taller than Magnus. Open wand boxes and uncared for wands lay around on a table, a layer of dust covering any details that could once be discerned. There was no real organisation, only half-done attempts.

Following the sounds of a saw, Magnus discerned a figure lying against a wall, a hood covering its face in shadow. A bellow of "Wake up ye' useless twat!" from McCready making the figure jump out of his chair, his knees clasped and breaths deep.

"McCready...you shit...Fuck sake I nearly pissed myself."

"You shouldn't be sleepin' on the job then, ay?"

His hood now pulled down, the young man glared at McCready, Magnus seemingly ignored. "I'll sleep where I fucking want to, you Scottish whore."

Placing his hand on Alana's shoulder in an attempt to calm her, Magnus saw that the man seemed to finally realise his presence.

"M-M'lord...I-I apologise...for that."

"No need to apologise to me. Miss McCready, however, might want an apology."

"S-Sir?" The man's confused eyes amusing Magnus, the dullard seemingly not understanding.

"This armoury is an absolute disgrace. I do not think the Dark Lord would appreciate it. What do you think, Miss McCready?"

He saw her barely contained smirk tug at her lips, "I agree sir, he would not be pleased in the slightest."

"But I might just skip it in my report, if I were to be distracted enough by an apology."

The man's brow didn't seem like it could crease further, his nostrils flaring at this blatant disrespect.

"Or I fucking torture you, report you as unable to perform your duties, and the Inner Circle decides you're not useful and have you killed."

A layer of sweat forming on the man's now pale, raised brow, he seemed to admit defeat, his apology forced through gritted teeth.

"I... apologise...Miss McCready."

The named woman nodding and a chirpy "Accepted!" meeting this, she continued deeper into the room, opening another door, Magnus on her tail; the man left standing there, glaring through Magnus.

The smell of stew and various meats meeting Magnus' nose, his stomach grumbled, loud enough for Alana to hear. She swung around casually, looking into the dark slots that covered his eyes. "Hungry?"

"Was I that obvious?"

A smirk meeting his remark, she led him towards a large plate, an assortment of large meats on it.

"These gorillas like nothing but meat for every meal, so here you go, nothing quite like a meat-exclusive diet."

Smirking at her, he realised he had no way to eat without revealing his face, she seemed to have caught this. "Any problems with me seeing your face? Gonna have to kill me?"

Looking at her, he grinned, his memory-altering pendant brushing against his chest. "None at all."

The sticking charms nullifying as his hand approached, the mask fell into his grasp, his brown eyes meeting Alana's forest green. "You're a handsome one, aren't ya?"

Smirking, he took a nearby plate and placed a variety of chicken and pork on it. "You're not what I expected at all either, female Death Eaters normally being portrayed as insane...That and the fact the average pureblood seems unwilling to allow women to breathe without their permission." A wave of Magnus' wand warming the spell-preserved food.

"Oh? Well I can be insane if I want to be." The heat emanating from her body alerting Magnus to her close proximity.

Turning around, he looked into her eyes, a challenge written in them. "Oh yeah? That might not reflect well in a report to Waverly."

Moving closer, Alana was neatly pressed against him. "Feuch orm, àidseant ( _Try me, agent)._ "

His retort cut off by a holler of "Get out of my kitchen! I don't want to have to clean everything here...again." from an older woman causing them to jump. The interruption catching both off guard, they had the decency of looking ashamed.

Magnus cleared his throat, "Sorry, ma'am."

Looking him up and down, the lady raised a brow, "Captain, are ye'?"

Shaking his head, Magnus replied with, "No, ma'am. Officer out in the field, reviewing safehouses. Your kitchen is the most impressive so far, ma'am."

A beaming smile meeting this, the lady walked passed him, opening a door he had failed to notice.

"Ye' can flirt as much as ye' want in here, a little private room."

Levitating his plate through, Magnus lead them into the room, his thanks to the lady met with a declaration of "Eat as much as you want, dear!". Sitting down around a small, circular table, Magnus took a bite from a piece of meat after casting a few wards.

"Any thoughts on my offer, Alana?"

The girl roused from her thoughts, she turned a glassy stare towards him.

"Aye. I accept...if you can guarantee that I'll be treated equally."

Smiling at her, he swallowed his mouthful of food.

"You'll find that Waverly Company is only interested in your skill and power. Blood, race, gender; none of it means anything to them. You just keep the fires burning, and they'll fan them."

She seemed happy with his reply, her body becoming less rigid.

"And what of the others?"

"That's simple, you decide who goes and who stays. Those that stay, die within the next few hours. Those that leave are expected to join Waverly, or inform us that they are unwilling to continue in this war, and are allowed a peaceful existence...as far as we're concerned. Now, I trust you're smart enough to not start a panic and have this place evacuated the second I am out of range, thus depriving me of the kills I require to send a message."

She seemed confused at first, her brow slightly creasing, but she seemed to realise the responsibility now placed on her shoulders in due time. Her chair creaked slightly as she leaned back, observing the man eating in front of her, his words ringing in her head.

"Any aspirations?"

She shook out of her thoughts with a graceful grunt at his question, her glassy eyes clearing quickly.

"Aspirations, what you wanna do."

"I know what it means, ye' cheeky wanker. And in all honesty, right now, none. I joined these people because I didn't want to be another victim. But now with an out...to a better job too...I might just see where life takes me."

His plate moved to the side, he nodded at her. "Well then, I'm happy you're joining Waverly. You will find us much less stifling to work with."

Standing up, she approached him. "That I hope." Stopping next to him, she leaned close to his ear, her breath on his neck causing his hair to stand on end. "Could I maybe get some...private tutoring when I struggle?"

Squaring his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself, he answered plainly, "You think you'll need help?"

Standing upright once more, she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Aye. You never know, even levitation charms can be improved."

Another smile playing on his lips, he slowly stood up, Alana's figure moving to the door.

"Let's finish our tour for now...rather quickly."

Moving through the door, Alana and the once more masked Magnus met the kindly lady again, her beaming smile pulling at Magnus' human nature.

"Thank you for your hospitality ma'am, but I think it may be time for you to take a vacation, don't you think?"

The woman seemed to pale quickly, her mind probably concluding a bad ending to the scenario. Magnus found himself unable to blame her, most of the scum through the adjoining door being fully capable and willing to kill this lady. A hand diving into his jacket had a coin purse presented to her, confusion seemingly carved into her wrinkles.

"I do not want innocents hurt in a war, so maybe travel a bit, yeah? This'll get you anywhere you'd like to go. Have a good life, ma'am." The coin purse placed into her frozen hands, she followed Magnus' figure through the door to the armoury, only after the door closed noticing the heft of the bag.

Alana had taken Magnus' actions in stride, following him back into the training room before her curiosity was too strong to repress.

"How much did you give her?"

Magnus glanced at her, barely five metres from the door back to the hallway. "Five thousand Galleons. She's old, probably been working her whole life, and this building's not safe. If anybody here deserves to be paid to leave, it's her. Now c'mon, I have a feeling the next room or two is going to be what I want."

She seemed taken aback by the casualness he had said 'Five thousand'...as if it wasn't much. Five thousand galleons could have her moving to Paris and living comfortably for almost a year. Another affirmation to her hopes of comfortable wealth causing her to nearly wrench the door open, excitement coursing through her veins.

They crossed the hallway quickly, the doorman giving them a bitter glance before going back to his cigarette.

Alana opened the door with an equal amount of ferocity, welcoming them to a barracks of sorts; five bunk beds lining the walls, a trunk at each end.

"This is the active team's bunks, follow me."

Leading him to an adjoining door, she opened it to reveal a staircase.

"Two more levels, each about the size of the training room."

Their quick steps finding them at a landing, two men talking blocking Magnus' view into the room beyond.

"This is the men's quarters. C'mon, let's go to the women's first, the rooms are built exactly the same."

Grabbing Magnus' hand, she dragged him down the second set of stairs, almost bowling two approaching women over. The first had only looked at Alana with disgust, the second sneered at her before 'seductively blinking' at him.

As they stopped at the next door, Magnus couldn't help but wonder what caused the woman attached to him by a vice-grip hand, to be so hurried now.

"Here we are." As she pushed the door open, Magnus peeked over her head. The room was basically a hallway with five doors a side, the hallway seemingly opening up to a lounge at the end of it. Still leading him by hand, Alana knocked on the second door on the right, a call of "Enter." allowing them entrance.

Opening the door, Alana shoved Magnus in, quickly closing the door behind them with wards following short. She cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the only other occupant. Her dark lips pulled back to reveal pearl white teeth, as a confused smile formed on her face. Alana straightened her robes before letting out a small huff.

"Laura, this is...I never got your name, actually."

"Corvus works."

"Well, this is Corvus, then. Corvus, this is Laura Mitchell, my friend I told you about."

Laura had stood up and approached the duo in the meanwhile, lightly shaking the man's hand, appreciating the calloused feel.

"My honour, Miss Mitchell. I would kiss your hand, but with this mask...Well I'm sure you understand."

"An honour, sir. You may call me Laura, if you'd prefer."

A small nod meeting this, he turned to Alana, "Would you like to fill her in?"

Stepping forward, she grasped Laura's shoulders and lead her further into the room, having her sit down on one of the two bunk beds. As her explanation started, Magnus looked around the room, observing a general lack of personal effects; leaving the room with an ultimately dull grey look.

"Holy fucking shit! Really? Waverly?" Laura's outburst followed by her leaping to her feet and nearly bowling Magnus over.

"I wanted to go work for them, but then all this happened. Wow. You won't regret this."

Awkwardly patting her back, her smiled. "I'm sure I won't, Laura." Slightly pushing her away, he pulled a card out of his coat, Alana having moved closer too. Laura having let go of him, he offered it to Alana.

"That's the address for a safehouse you'll be staying at for the next few days, while I sort out this and your entries. Below it are the co-ordinates that you will be apparating to. Go to the house, follow the instructions that the card will show you, and wait for a letter. Do not disobey the card, it will ask you to relinquish your wands, this is only to ensure nobody kills anybody for the duration of your stay. There will be guards, so you'll be safe. Now, I believe I know just what I want, so I will be leaving. Remember Alana, one hour, you decide, no exceptions."

As he approached the door, Alana hugged him similarly to Laura's earlier attempt.

"Ye' won't regret this, really."

"For the last time, I know I'm not going to. I'll see you both soon."

Hurriedly exiting the room, he left the female dorms. Heading to the male rooms, he calculated his payloads damage throughout the house, the male rooms being the ideal place. Entering the dorm, he saw the lounge nearly filled with obnoxiously loud people. A sadistic grin forming on his face, he cast a spell towards the room's visible table, the co-ordinates ingraining themselves into his mind. Plans were going along perfectly.

Finding himself back in the original hallway, he approached the guard, the lethargic man jumping at his arrival.

"Miss McCready will be leaving later, accompanied by at least one other. Do not make her wait, because if she is late, I'll be coming to kill you."

The man's forehead gaining a glistening layer, he silently opened the door.

"I understand, sir."

Moving through the door, Magnus turned to the man. "I expect much from you, Mister Brogden. To future encounters."

Swift strides had Magnus through the wrought-iron gate, the frost inside him finally disappearing as the wards washed over him again.

* * *

Harry Potter was not very amused, if he were being honest. His hopes of going to France were going to be fulfilled, and not only for a day, but for a week. Then Magnus had said they'd be leaving later that day, and now it was multiple hours later, without word or hair of the man.

As his frustration was about to boil over, he heard a small pop in the living room, making him launch himself down the hallway. Nothing could quite piss him off, or cheer him up, as much as Magnus' shit-eating grin, it was this exact grin that elicited the first reaction from Harry, his frown hopefully a strong enough indication of his frustrations.

"You're much later than you said you'd be."

Walking up to the child, Magnus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I know, I know. I was distracted by a work-opportunity. I'm back now, so give me a couple of minutes to pack, and we'll be on our way."

Harry's unimpressed grunt and crossed arms causing the man to chuckle as he walked to his room, his wand already waving to pack his duffel bag. As he entered the room his duffel bag zipped itself shut, flopping lightly onto his bed, before he pulled a clear, glass sphere out of his pocket; seven golden bands woven around it, creating two poles.

A press of his wand onto the one pole had the ball filling with a dark blue smoke, before swirling and quickly turning to red, then gold. As the smoke settled, it coalesced into a face resembling his handler, Rawlings.

"I have returned to safehouse Foxtrot, oscar mike in 5 minutes. DE Safehouse identified, possible recruits extracted to the best of my abilities, ordnance ETA is 45. Corvus out."

The disembodied head seemed to nod, before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Placing the sphere back into a pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag, content with at least a week away from all this.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this took so long, had a bit of writers block. Chapter 14 is well underway, so expect it soon. PM's and reviews are welcome.**

 **Have a good one.**


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